Only You
by anonolitz
Summary: Cyrus calls Olivia to the White House five months after her break-up with Fitz. What happens when Fitz and Olivia are reunited and give into their desires? Will they find their way back together or are the secrets and lies too much to overcome?
1. Chapter 1

"Only You"

These days, nights were the most difficult time for Olivia. During the day she could distract herself with the business of being Olivia Pope, the neediness of her clients, and the chaos of managing her team. But, at night, she was left alone with her thoughts and overwhelmed by the silence. She knew how she arrived at this place. She could trace the path carved out by the decisions she made. Decisions, made in isolation, that gave her the freedom she'd craved, but cost her the future she once dreamed of.

This particular night, she'd fallen back into old, familiar routines. She was curled up on her new couch in her favorite oversized gray cardigan, black silk camisole, and black silk pajama bottoms. Her popcorn dinner was nearly finished and she'd just opened open a second bottle of red wine. She was absentmindedly flipping through the channels and mentally running through her plan for the next day when something on the television caught her attention. Her body reacted before her mind could process that it was Fitz's image that caused her to pause.

The news channel was covering his date with Grace Stone, D.C.'s recently elected attorney general. They had been dating for a couple of weeks and the media was quite taken with her. Grace was physically everything Olivia wasn't and it annoyed Olivia greatly how comfortable the leggy blonde seemed with all the media attention. She disliked most things about Grace, but what bothered her the most was Grace's habit of always being in physical contact with Fitz when in the public eye. She was frequently seen holding his hand, straightening his tie or brushing invisible lint from his suit. It didn't matter how simple the gesture or how mundane the task, she was always connected to him in a way that Olivia longed to be, but never felt free to do with the world watching.

Olivia's thoughts were interrupted by her phone's shrill ringing. She glanced at the screen and immediately recognized the number as one of the White House's exchanges. She stared at the phone wondering who from the White House would be calling her at this hour. She knew it wasn't Fitz because he was out with Grace. That left only Abby or Cyrus, neither of whom was she particularly interested in speaking with. Still, she thought, whatever they wanted had to be better than being home alone in her pajamas, drinking wine, and staring at Fitz on the television. At the last second she reluctantly muted the television and answered the phone.

"What?"

"Good evening to you too, Liv."

"What do you want Cyrus?"

"We have a rather urgent situation that calls for your unique skillset. Can you come to the White House? Now?"

"I don't work for the White House. I don't work for him. He doesn't want me anywhere near the Oval."

"You won't be working for him and you won't be near the Oval. You'll be doing a favor for an old friend. We can meet in my office."

"I can't, Cyrus. Even if I wanted to, I can't help you, not tonight."

"Why not?" he asked, his annoyance with her stubborn refusal to cooperate starting to show in his voice.

"If you must know," she huffed, "I'm out, on a date." She knew she shouldn't lie about her whereabouts, but also knew if Cyrus thought she was home alone he wouldn't relent until she agreed to meet him.

"Oh," Cyrus responded, pausing to listen carefully to her background noise. He noted immediately the near silence and began to question the validity of her excuse. She may be "in" with someone, but she most definitely was not "out". Plus, he knew his friend and doubted seriously that she was ready to move on from her most recent break up with Fitz. For some unknown reason, this round of make up and break up had taken its toll on her emotionally and she seemed more affected than Fitz.

Even more curious about her true _plans for the evening, he pressed forward, "Look Liv, you know I'm the last person to stand in the way of true love or hot sex, but I need you here tonight. You know I wouldn't ask you to come to the White House if it wasn't important. I wouldn't ask if there was another way. I'll give you some time to wrap up your date, but I expect to see you..."_

"You _expect_ to see me?" Olivia angrily spat out, interrupting his rant before he could ramp up.

Deciding that less would more impactful in this situation, he responded, "Yes, Liv, I _expect_ to see you, _here_ , in my office before midnight," and hung up the phone suddenly.

Olivia stared at her phone in shock at Cyrus's actions. He knew she wasn't the type to respond to demands, even from her friends. She threw her phone to the other end of the couch in frustration as she debated whether or not she should indulge Cyrus's tantrum. She was leaning toward going, after all she was bored and could use the distraction. However, she didn't want Cyrus developing the habit of summoning her to the White House and she most definitely couldn't go dressed like this. She looked down at her current outfit and sighed, why did she tell him she was out.

Olivia begrudgingly made her way to the bedroom in search of a "date" dress that she could also wear to a meeting at the White House. She became increasingly frustrated as she flipped through her options. How was it possible that nothing in her closet felt right for this charade? She chuckled lightly when her eyes fell upon the dress she wore during her first trip to the bar as Alex. That look was definitely inappropriate for the White House. She wistfully recalled the time on the campaign bus when Fitz first dared her to be inappropriate. Those early days were some of her favorite memories and she couldn't help but wonder if he was being inappropriate with Grace as she dressed for her fake date.

Olivia flopped on her bed in frustration. Why was she doing this? As she laid there trying to rationalize with herself, she couldn't deny why she was entertaining the idea of meeting Cyrus. Despite her earlier protestations, she wanted to see Fitz, and this was her first opportunity to return to the White House. While she didn't miss acting as First Lady, she did miss him and wondered if he missed her or if he'd truly moved on. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was after ten o'clock, and wondered what time Fitz would return from his date. Perhaps, if she timed things right, there was a possibility she could "accidentally" bump into him.

Returning to her closet with renewed focus, Olivia quickly located the perfect, but highly inappropriate, "date" dress. It was a black Kate Spade mini dress, with the sales tag attached, that Abby convinced her to buy when she was seeing Russell. That fling ended quickly and she never had another reason, until tonight, to wear the dress. Olivia knew that the dress screamed for an edgier look than her usual soft curls, but Fitz preferred her hair curled, and tonight was about him, so she quickly touched up her hair. She complemented the dress with her favorite pair of black Louboutin heels, soft smoky eyes, and a deep berry lipstick.

She took one final review of her finished look in the full length mirror, smiling broadly as she took note that she looked more like Alex than Olivia. She knew it was a long shot that she'd see Fitz, but, if they were to cross paths, she wanted to remind him of how it felt when their bodies longed for each other. Feeling confident and sexy, she grabbed her coat, purse, and car keys and exited her apartment.

A little over an hour after his phone call, Olivia arrived in Cyrus's office, knocking softly on his door to announce her presence. Cyrus looked up from the papers on his desk and his breath hitched in his throat as he took in Olivia's appearance. He may be gay, but he could still appreciate the female form and had to acknowledge how stunning she looked. He lifted a wry eyebrow and looked at her questioningly.

"What?" she responded coyly. "I told you I was out."

He smiled and nodded his head, stating "You'll have to tell me all about him later. Right now, I need to make use of your other brilliant talents." With that introduction, he began to fill her in on the details of the latest situation to threaten the Grant administration. Thirty minutes later they were both so engrossed in their strategy discussions that neither one of them heard Fitz enter Cyrus's office.

"What is _she_ doing here? Cyrus, I told you not to call her. I don't want her working on this. I don't want _her_ working on anything related to _my_ administration," Fitz ranted without looking in Olivia's direction.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she barked out angrily, jumping out of her chair, and cutting off Cyrus before he could respond. "Are you really going to talk about me as if I'm not in the room? Grow the fuck up Fitz, I may have failed to meet your expectations of me as your First Lady, but I never failed you as your fixer. It's not arrogance when I say I'm the best in the business, and right now you need the best if you plan to get out of this with your reputation and your precious administration intact."

The harshness of her tone and accuracy of her appraisal caused him to turn to her, allowing him to, for the first time tonight, fully take in the beauty that stood before him. He gasped audibly, caught off guard by her outfit's brazen display of sexuality. He openly admired how the black dress clung to the swell of her breasts and the slight curve of her hips. She was gorgeous and her perfection never failed to take his breath away. He felt the all too familiar twitch in his pants as his blood rushed south to his slowly engorging member.

Cyrus, eager to escape the situation that was growing increasingly more uncomfortable by the second, stood and hastily made his way to the door. "I'll leave the two of you to work this out. I trust that you will find a mutually satisfying resolution," he said with a smirk. As he walked past his assistant's desk, he left a note for her to have his office professionally cleaned first thing in the morning, for he was fairly certain every surface would be defiled by the end of the night.

Fitz nor Olivia acknowledged Cyrus's departure, as they were both locked in a staring contest that neither dared to break. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under the heat of Fitz's blistering gaze, Olivia looked away and pulled her coat closed around her. Desperate to break the tension and fill the silence she offered, "I was out when Cyrus called. He said it was urgent so I didn't go home to change before meeting him."

"You look," he took an exaggerated pause looking for the exact words to describe the woman standing before him. "You look beautiful, stunning, really there are no words."

"Thank you," she quietly replied, holding his gaze and willing him to act on his obvious attraction. When it became clear that he wasn't going to make a move, she added, "I'm going to head to the office and call my team. You're good with us handling this, right?"

"Yes, of course. As you reminded me earlier, I need you. We're adults. We can manage a professional relationship. Thank you for agreeing to take this on."

"No worries." Deciding to make one last overture before leaving, she continued, "I'll always be by your side."

When Fitz didn't reply, Olivia dropped her head and brushed past him to leave, silently chastising herself for letting her jealousy drive her decisions tonight. He had moved on with Grace and, while it was clear his body still physically responded to her, he was unwilling to be baited by her attempt to seduce him. Olivia was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn't feel Fitz's hand around her wrist until she was being pulled back into his embrace.

"Where are you going?" he whispered in her ear, using a husky baritone that rippled through her body. "Isn't this what you came for?" he asked, nibbling gently on her earlobe and rubbing his hard member across her backside.

Olivia snaked her small hand between their bodies and stroked him through his pants. "What, this?" she responded.

Deciding to take control of the situation, she quickly flipped around in his arms so that they were facing each other. She pulled him roughly toward her and gave him a bruising kiss. They were instantly a collision of lips, tongue, and teeth as they kissed, licked, sucked, and bit on anything they could get near their mouths. She broke their kiss suddenly, shoved him playfully, and shrugged out of her coat as he stumbled backwards toward Cyrus's desk.

Once he regained his balance, Fitz made quick work of his jacket and tie. He resisted the urge to smile as he stared at the playful little minx before him. He didn't know what inspired the outfit or her more aggressive nature, but he was determined to enjoy and not overthink things. As tempted as he was to take control, he remained frozen in his spot, allowing her to dictate the pace and terms of their play.

Olivia approached him slowly, teasing him with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Enjoying the show, he started unbuttoning his shirt, starting with the sleeves before working his way down from the collar. He'd only worked through a third of his buttons before she reached him and playfully swatted his hands away.

"I think that's my job," she teased, dragging her nails across his exposed chest, enjoying the way his muscles contracted in response to her touch. She reached up to kiss him, slowly working her tongue into his mouth. When he began to moan, she withdrew her tongue and moved from his mouth to his jawline and down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips in her wake.

She bit at one of his particularly sensitive spots along his clavicle and he hissed loudly in response. She fought the urge to mark him, after all, he was the president and, if she was being honest with herself, she knew he wasn't hers, not anymore. She pushed all thoughts of Grace from her mind and continued to remove his shirt, trailing a path of kisses down his torso, stopping only briefly to pay attention to his sensitive nipples.

Once on her knees, she quickly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, allowing them to fall to the floor. She could tell it was taking every ounce of control he had to be still and allow her to control things. She looked up at him briefly to see his head thrown back, eyes closed, and lips slightly parted as he enjoyed her teasing. Taking advantage of his distracted state, she released him from his boxers and quickly licked the cum oozing from his tip. His body stiffened in response and he pushed her gently stopping her advances. "Livvie, wait, you don't have to."

"Shhh," she in interrupted him. "I want to. Please let me do this for you," she asked in a hushed voice, pushing his arm away. She paused for his response and took his silence as acquiescence. This was confirmed as he casually leaned against Cyrus's desk for support, giving into her request. She returned her attention to him, slowly kissing and gently nipping at his shaft. Sensing his growing impatience with her teasing, she took his pulsing member into her mouth and quickly established a rhythm, bobbing eagerly up and down his length. She looked up at him through hooded eyelids feeling emboldened by the way his beautiful face contorted with the pleasure her mouth provided.

He looked down at her with an unmistakable combination of love and lust in his eyes. "Shit, Livvie. The things you do with that pretty little mouth. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Enjoying being in control she released him from her mouth with a pop. He groaned loudly in disappointment, but quickly quieted when she sucked first one then the other of his balls into her mouth. He moaned softly, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure she provided as she rolled his balls around with her tongue. He began to slowly rock his hips letting his dick glide gently across her face. She greedily took him back into her mouth and once again established her rhythm. She alternated between twirling her tongue around his head and taking him deeply into her mouth. When he could take no more, Fitz began to tug on her hair trying to persuade her to release him from her skillful mouth.

"Livvie, you have to stop."

"Hmm?" she hummed in response, continuing with her ministrations.

He began tugging a little more urgently, not wanting his first release to come before he had an opportunity to please her. "Liv, if you don't stop," his speech was halted by the overwhelming pleasure of his head rubbing the back of her throat as she took him in deeply.

"Shit, Livvie. Damn," he cried out. She moaned her approval of his response sending small vibrations down his length.

Olivia was pleasantly surprised when he stopped tugging on her hair and, instead, grabbed both sides of her head guiding her mouth up and down his length. Reasserting control, she increased her pace making it clear that she planned for him to finish in her mouth. Without warning, he began slamming his hips toward her, forcing him further into her mouth and down her throat, fucking her mouth. When she felt him twitch several times, Olivia fully relaxed her jaw and throat and prepared for him to cum inside her.

"Fuck, Livvie. It feels so good. Too good. So perfect. I'm going cum," he announced before holding her head firmly in place and thrusting one last time before spraying his seed into her throat. She milked him through his orgasm, only releasing him from her mouth when she was confident he was fully spent.

She looked up at him with a devilish grin as she wiped her mouth with her hand. "Damn!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "For the second time tonight I am without words."

Olivia rose to her feet and bent over to retrieve her coat from the floor. She straightened her dress and quickly ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make herself look presentable for the cameras sure to be recording once she exited Cyrus's office. She grabbed her purse from the chair and headed for the door.

"Olivia, wait! Where are you going?" he asked, fighting through the fog of the afterglow of his orgasm, desperate to keep her there with him.

"To OPA. In case you've forgotten, Cyrus hired me for an actual job tonight and, if you want the results I promised, I need to call my team and get started."

"You can't leave. Not now. Not like this," he stated as he quickly pulled up his boxers and pants.

"Why not? What's changed?" she challenged him. "Let's not forget where you were before you barged into Cyrus's office barking orders."

"Where?" he paused, quickly searching his memory for the answer before remembering that he'd started his evening on a date. It was hard to believe that his date was only hours ago. At this moment, it felt like days had passed since his time with Grace. "Is this, was this, about her? Are you jealous?"

"Of course not. This was about us doing what we do. We both know how this ends. Let's save each other a lot of pain and skip right to the end. I'm leaving," she declared, heading toward the door.

"Again," he mumbled under his breath loudly enough to be heard.

"What?" she questioned as she whipped around to face him. "What did you say?"

He slowly brought his eyes to hers, freezing her in place with the intensity of his gaze, daring her to look away. "I said again. Isn't that how this ends, with you leaving? Again. Isn't that what _you_ do?" he asked her softly.

Finally, with tears glistening in her eyes, she looked away. He felt her resolve slipping away and quickly moved to close the gap between them. He was desperate to comfort her, to hold her, to somehow recapture the ecstasy they'd shared only moments earlier. He wrapped her in his arms and nuzzled his face in her neck, deeply inhaling the familiar scent that was uniquely her.

"What, Fitz, what do you want?" she pleaded as she weakly pushed him away.

He tightened his grip on her small waist, softly placing a series of small quick kisses up her neck and along her jawline, pulling her even closer toward him. He softly rubbed his cheek against her face savoring the feeling of being so close to her. He moved to capture her lips with his, but first he paused to respond to her question.

"I want you, Olivia. I always have and I always will. I want you and I want you to stay," he whispered softly against her lips. She exhaled deeply and allowed herself to relax into his embrace, dropping her purse and coat to the floor. Feeling the last of her walls fall away, he kissed her deeply. They stayed that way, in each other's embrace, for what seemed like hours, trading kisses that alternated between light and teasing and deep and passionate. He was finally where he wanted to be, in the arms of the only woman he'd ever loved, the only woman he ever wanted to love.

Fitz wanted to take her to the residence, but worried breaking to change locations would give her an opportunity to recover and for her walls to rebuild. He settled for the next best thing and slowly spun her around so that she was now facing the door. Continuing to kiss her, he slowly walked her backwards until her thighs bumped against the desk. Reluctantly he broke their kiss and reached behind her to clear a space for her on the desk. He chuckled lightly at the sound of Cyrus's things crashing to the floor and made a mental note to write his dear friend an apology and ask his assistant to replace any items that may have been broken.

He returned his attention to Olivia, lifting her gently onto the desk and resuming his assault on her lips, face and neck. With one hand, he roughly massaged her breast, pleased to discover she wasn't wearing a bra, and with the other, he traced a path up her inner thigh, slowly heading toward her heated core. When he reached his goal, he stroked her panties covered slit, slightly surprised that her arousal had already soaked the thin material. He dipped his fingers under her panties and separated her lips with his fingers, coating them in her arousal before lightly massaging her clit.

"Hmmm...so fucking wet," he quietly moaned into her ear.

"Mhmm," she responded, distracted by the pleasure she was receiving from his fingers.

With his face buried in her neck, Fitz frowned at her response. Olivia was normally more vocal in her responses, crediting him for her body's reaction. Fitz remembered that she was also on a date this evening and worried that he may not have been her first choice of whom to spend her evening with. Spurred on by his jealously, he sucked aggressively at her neck, determined to mark her as his. Sensing what he was about to do, she tugged his hair roughly, growling his name in warning as she pulled his mouth from her neck.

"What?" he asked, smiling at her innocently.

"Behave."

"As you wish," he replied before returning his attention to her neck. He kissed his way down the front of her body, stopping to tease and bite both of her nipples through her dress. She softly moaned her approval while gently nudging his head, encouraging him to continue traveling south.

He pushed up her dress and swiftly removed her panties before spreading her legs. Olivia leaned forward and pulled Fitz into a searing kiss, temporarily halting his advances when she forced her tongue into his mouth. Breaking their kiss, he pushed her back against the desk and held her down with his forearm. He took a moment to inhale her scent and admire her beauty before pressing his lips to hers, softly kissing her slit. He sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue. After spending a few moments teasing her, he dragged his tongue down to her opening and slowly began fucking her with his tongue.

He paused to briefly look up at her. Her face was twisted with pleasure and she was biting her lip, fighting her urge to scream.

"Let go baby. I want to hear you scream. It's not like they haven't heard you before."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later, if you're a good girl. Right now I'm kind of busy."

Olivia loved his confident, playful side and his teasing reminded her of how much she had missed him, missed them. She was pulled from her thoughts when he slowly inserted one finger and then a second, fucking her with his hand as his tongue lavished attention on her clit. Desperate to anchor herself to something, she wrapped her fingers in his thick brown curls.

"Fuck, Fitz. It feels so good. I love the way you make me feel."

Encouraged by her verbal response, he increased his efforts, greedily lapping at her center. Olivia began to rapidly rock her hips, grinding her center again his face to increase the friction. Her ab muscles began contracting with her building orgasm, lifting her off the desk. Fitz pushed her back down on the desk, holding her in place, while he roughly sucked her clit into his mouth and increased the pace of his fingers, repeatedly rubbing against her bundle of nerves.

"Oh God, Fitz. Don't stop. I'm so close. Please don't stop," she pleaded as her body twitched violently in response to the way his sweet mouth was slowly torturing her. He struggled to keep up with her as she moved wildly, trapping his head in her legs as her body simultaneously fought to push him away and pull him close. He was exhausted and desperate for air when she released her hold on him as spasms racked her small body and her center flooded in response to her climax.

Fitz rose to his feet and watched Olivia as she slowly recovered from her orgasm. Her eyes were closed, her make-up was smeared, and her hair was disheveled, but he was still enchanted by her beauty. Wanting to memorize everything about her in that moment, he let his gaze slowly fall over her body, taking in every small detail. He froze when he came to her Doux Bébé adorned index finger. He didn't know what to make of the fact that she was still wearing his ring. He wanted to believe that its presence was evidence that she was still waiting for him, waiting until the time was right for them to be together, but he also knew that it didn't mean she was waiting alone.

Olivia opened her eyes and caught Fitz staring at her left hand. She knew immediately what had captured his attention and moved her hand quickly to interrupt his thoughts. Eager to distract him, she propped herself up on her elbows and beckoned him to her. When he was close enough, Olivia wrapped her legs around his waist, quickly pulling him toward her, locking him in place. She leaned toward him and captured his lips with hers, greedily accepting his tongue when he offered it to her. She moved her hands down his muscular back and into his boxers, squeezing his butt firmly, pleased when he moaned his appreciation into her mouth.

Without breaking their kiss, Olivia reached between them to unbutton his pants, pushing them to the floor along with his boxers. She tightened her grip with her legs, pressing his erection against her inner thigh. Olivia wrapped her small hand around his hardness, stroking him repeatedly. When he didn't move, she moved closer to him, spreading her legs widely, and guided him to her core. She rubbed him against her slit, coating his tip in her essence before rubbing his head against her clit. Fitz remained grounded in place, allowing her to use him to pleasure herself, but didn't move to penetrate her.

"I need you inside me," she whispered.

With that, Fitz lifted her off the desk and held her close, rubbing the full length of her body against his as he let her slide to her feet. When she was steady, he turned her around and unzipped her dress, pushing it off her shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor. Once she was naked, he leaned against her, the weight of his body bending her small frame over the desk. This would normally be a challenging position because of their height difference, but she was still wearing her five inch heels, creating a much easier angle for him. He rubbed his hands down her arms, interlacing his fingers with hers when he reached her hands. Guiding her with their interlocked hands, he positioned her arms along the edge of the desk, readying her for the impact of his entrance. Releasing her hands, he moved to her buttocks, roughly massaging her glorious globes. He wasn't normally an ass man, but there was something about the sight of her in this position, willingly submitting to his dominance, that aroused him beyond imagination.

He dipped two fingers into her core to test her readiness before abruptly pulling them out. She moaned loudly at the loss of contact, but was quieted instantly at the feeling of him thrusting roughly into her fully without notice. She gasped as he pulled out sharply before slamming back into her again, not giving her time to adjust to his size. She pulled herself across the desk, desperate to create space between them and lessen the force of his entry. Not letting her escape so easily, he grabbed her roughly by the hips and pulled her back toward him. He held her tightly, digging his fingers into the fleshy part of her hip and butt, anchoring her in place with the force of his grip before slamming into her once again. He knew she would be bruised and sore tomorrow, but he didn't care. In fact, the thought of her being reminded of him, them, every time she moved further aroused him.

"Fitz, please," she pleaded.

"Please what, Olivia? What do you want?"

"Please...fuck me. Harder, faster, don't stop," she cried as she reached behind her grabbing his butt and pulling him into her once more.

Fitz slapped her firmly on her right butt cheek before violently ramming fully into her again. The room was filled with the sounds of their loud moaning and skin slapping against each other as they were united time and time again. He could hear how wet she was for him and there was the unmistakable aroma of their combined arousal hanging in the air. He didn't know how he went so long without being inside her and he took a moment to relish the feeling of her walls contracting around him, pulling him deeper inside her.

Fitz knew he wouldn't last long at this punishing pace, but was determined that she would fall over the precipice before he did. Ignoring the pleasure building deep within him, he focused on bringing her to orgasm. He could tell from the erratic way her walls were contracting around him that she was close, but sensed that she was holding back, denying her orgasm as she waited for something. He knew immediately what she was waiting for and, if he wasn't so close to orgasm himself, he would have withheld it from her longer to test her resolve. Needing her to find her release, her grabbed her roughly by the hair and pulled her into his arms, changing the angle of his penetration. She moaned loudly, spewing a string of curses, at the feeling of him filling her completely. She sounds she was making as she writhed around in ecstasy, begging him to bring her to orgasm were almost enough to push him over the edge. Knowing he had to end this now, he reached around her and roughly tugged and rubbed her clit. Holding her tightly against him, he leaned forward, close to her ear, and quietly commanded "Let go Livvie. Come for me," as he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck.

The sound of his sexy baritone and jolt of pain from her neck sent shivers through her body and she shattered completely, shrieking his name over and over before falling limply into his arms. The combination of Olivia screaming his name and her walls clamping down on him proved to be his undoing. He thrust into her one final time, calling her name before unloading his seed deeply inside her. Fitz collapsed onto Olivia forcing them both onto the desk. They remained like that for a while, both breathless and panting, trying to recover from their intense orgasms.

Careful not to break their connection, he pulled her into his embrace, lifting her feet from the ground to offset their height difference. He walked them backwards slowly and lowered them into one of Cyrus's visitor's chairs. Once seated, he wrapped his arms around her small body, massaging both of her breasts with his large hands, and nuzzled his face into her neck. He loved the way she smelled after sex, a combination of soap, sweat, arousal, and him. Holding her tightly, he placed a series of light kisses down her neck and across her shoulders. When he felt himself soften, he gently lifted her hips so that he could fully withdraw from her center. She whined at the loss of contact as she kicked off her heels before shifting in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close for a deep kiss. He separated from her briefly to toe off his shoes and allow his pants and boxers to fall to the floor.

As much as he enjoyed fucking her, he longed for a more meaningful connection. When he was confident his legs would support both of them, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the couch. He laid her down gently and joined her, careful not to crush her with his weight. He lightly traced the contours of her body with his fingertips, once again appreciating her beauty. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, and she returned his kiss enthusiastically. Willing himself to be patient, he kissed her deeply, alternating between massaging her breasts and pulling and twisting her nipples. Eventually, he kissed his way from her lips to her breasts and lavished attention on both mounds, causing her to writhe with pleasure beneath him.

He traced his fingers along her slit, testing to see if she was ready for him, and was pleased to discover she was again slick with arousal. Shifting so that he was positioned between her legs, he fisted his member, slowly stroking himself a couple of times before aligning his tip with her opening. He eased into her slowly, both of them moaning loudly, enjoying the feeling of being reunited. This time he set a leisurely pace, slowly rocking in and out of her while he peppered her face, neck, and breasts with slow, sensual kisses.

Both of them knew she wouldn't achieve orgasm with this position and pace, but neither cared. This round of coupling wasn't about their physical pleasure, it was about the two of them sharing an intimate and emotional connection while physically united. Feeling no sense of urgency, the two of them traded long, lazy kisses as they took turns fully exploring each other's mouths with their tongues.

Fitz positioned himself directly over her, supporting his weight on his arms, so he could watch her face twist in pleasure as he thrust into her and pulled almost all the way out before entering her again and again, his determined pace slowly driving her crazy.

"Open your eyes. Look at me, Liv," he gently commanded.

Olivia reluctantly opened her eyes and saw that he was staring down at her with the most peaceful expression of love and contentment. How she wished she could be so open with and transparent in her love for him. She looked back into his stormy blue eyes, trying to communicate the feelings that were welling up inside her. Fitz looked down and found the connection he longed for. She was there with him, open and vulnerable, willing to receive his love. He was reminded in that moment that he would never love another woman the way he loved her and he silently renewed his commitment to her.

Overwhelmed with the intensity of their shared moment, Olivia broke their connection by turning her head slightly and closing her eyes. Fitz latched on her now exposed neck, lightly sucking on one of her sensitive spots near her ear. She moaned her approval softly, meeting his gentle thrusts with a small rock of her hips. He was slightly startled when he felt a drop of moisture roll down her cheek and wedge between their two faces. He lifted his body so that he could see her face and was surprised to see a trail of tears streaming from both eyes. He gently wiped away her tears and professed his love for her over and over again, while covering her face in tender kisses.

Olivia wanted desperately to respond, but held back. She didn't want to be one of those people that could only communicate during sex. Instead, she responded the only way she could, by wrapping her legs around his waist, shifting the position of her hips and allowing him to penetrate her more deeply. They moaned in unison at the heightened sensation of their lovemaking. The feeling of being buried so deeply inside her threatened to overwhelm him and he quickened his pace, resisting the urge to jackhammer into her. From his faster pace, ragged breathing, and occasional twitching, she knew he was nearing his end, but could tell that he was holding back, not wanting their time together to end. She softly placed her hands on either side of his face, holding him still as she gazed deeply into his eyes.

"I love you. I will always love you," she cooed as she focused on using her body to bring him to his end. Her soft declarations of love proved to be all that was needed to push him over the edge. Using her shoulders for leverage, he thrust quickly into her a couple more times before spilling his seed deeply inside her and collapsing fully onto her. Olivia welcomed the feeling of safety created by being so fully enveloped in the weight of his body and the weight of his love.

They remained in this position until Fitz recovered from his orgasm enough to realize that he was no longer supporting himself. He quickly rolled behind her, spooning her into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of her resting peacefully in his arms. He struggled against the rising feelings of frustration about the current state of their relationship. They'd come so far, yet here they were, secretly coupled in another stolen moment. He knew that their relationship would proceed on her terms but he was tempted to press her for answers about their future. He was confident that she would once again share his bed and eventually agree to be his wife and give birth to their children, but he didn't know what she needed to move forward. He _did_ know that tonight was not the night to broach any of these subjects. Doing so would only cause her to shut down and he was eager to keep any of the momentum gained by the evening they'd shared.

Although she could feel him fully wrapped around her, she felt that Fitz was no longer present in the moment. She wanted to engage him, but knew what he was thinking about and didn't have any answers about where they went from here. Instead, she opted to place the onus to him to engage her, hoping that he would deflect.

Without turning around, she asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," he smiled weakly against her shoulder.

She was amused by his use of her favorite deflection phrase. She knew he wasn't fine. Neither one of them was fine, but she appreciated him not pressuring her to move their relationship forward.

Olivia disentangled her limbs from his and rose to gather her clothes. As she stood and crossed the room, she felt their combined essence leak down her thigh. A brief moment of panic washed over her as she debated if lightening could strike twice. Surely the birth control that had protected her so ably for 20 years wouldn't fail her twice in six months. Making a mental note to stop at the pharmacy on the way home, she grabbed a couple tissues from Cyrus's desk to clean up before stepping into her dress.

Fitz, quietly watching her from across the room, panicked when he noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. Desperate to keep her walls down and in the moment, he quickly closed the distance between them, pausing only briefly to slide on his boxers. Wrapping her tightly in his embrace from behind, he whispered softly in her ear, "Stay with me. Spend the night with me in the residence."

Olivia paused a moment to enjoy the security of his embrace and the warmth of his breath on her skin before pulling away from him, gesturing for him to zip her dress. She wanted to stay, but knew that it was a bad idea. They couldn't keep doing this, separating and getting back together. Without changing, they would keep getting the same result. She wasn't ready to change and she wasn't sure she could withstand having her heart broken again.

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

She turned to face him, lightly stroking his cheek. "I can't. I have to call my team and get to OPA. Cyrus asked for my help tonight. You need me to handle this quickly and quietly."

She kissed him softly and walked around him, slipping on her shoes, grabbing her coat and purse as she headed for the door. She was almost to the door when the brokenness of his voice caused her to pause and turn around.

"Were you really out tonight, or was this," gesturing toward her outfit, "for me?"

Frozen in her spot by the look of pain and insecurity on his face, she debated how to respond. She wanted to reassure him by telling the truth, but didn't want to give him hope. That wouldn't be fair to him. What she did tonight wasn't fair. She knew that, but her jealousy earlier that night made her desperate for his touch, desperate for his love. Instead, she opted to show him her answer. She approached him slowly and gently pulled his head toward her. She kissed him, softly at first, but quickly deepened the kiss. She poured all of her emotions, the love, passion, desperation, anger, hurt, and devastation, into that kiss. Communicating to him all the things she couldn't, wouldn't, with words.

Finally, when her lungs were screaming for air, she broke their kiss and quickly retreated towards the door. With the doorknob in her hand and freedom solidly in her grasp, she turned over her shoulder and said "I wasn't with someone else tonight. It was for you. Only you."

Without waiting for his response, she opened the door and made her escape. Fitz sank back on Cyrus's desk and smiled as he listened to the familiar click clack of her heels as she strutted out of the White House.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Olivia lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She didn't know it was possible to simultaneously be amped and exhausted, but here she was too wired to relax and desperate for sleep. Business was thriving and the demand for her attention had been constant and overwhelming. She usually thrived when she was being pulled in multiple directions, but tonight she needed some time to just be and was hoping to get through the night without an emergency call. She'd just started to relax a little when her cell phone began vibrating on her nightstand.

"What?" she answered hastily, frustrated that the sleep she longed for would have to wait.

"Did I wake you?" a familiar, but unwelcome, velvety baritone asked.

Following the evening they'd shared six weeks ago, she was confident he would call or try to see her. She'd been like a teenage girl, flushed with excitement every time her phone rang or someone knocked on her door, but he never called nor did he show up. He made no attempt to contact her outside of their professional interactions. Business had led to her return to the White House, but, even then, their interactions were stilted. He was polite, even warm, but there was a formal tone that had never been present before, even when they were keeping their relationship a secret. A perfect example of this was his insistence on calling her Olivia, never Liv or the far more endearing Livvie. She was concerned at first, but brushed it off, assuming that his changed demeanor was a show for Cyrus and Abby. As the weeks passed, her concern turned to irritation and eventually, unfortunately for him in this moment, she became angry.

"No, I was up," she responded flatly.

"Are you alone?"

"What do you want Fitz?" she spat angrily. It was none of his business if she was alone or not. He forfeited his right to ask that question when he started dating Grace.

"I saw you on TV..."

"You saw _me_ on TV?" she interrupted.

"Yes, the Senator Cunningham press conference."

"Oh, that, I thought I was out of the frame."

"You missed by about 8 inches," he teased. He paused briefly for her response, but all he heard was silence.

He was a little unsettled by Olivia's seemingly cool reception and debated hanging up, but he'd called and she'd answered so he decided to keep talking, hoping to eventually engage her.

"Anyway, I feel a little foolish now, but I saw you on TV and gave into the urge to call."

Olivia understood. It was always a danger for her when she watched the news. She never knew when she would encounter his image or what the media would capture him doing. It was never easy for her to watch him when they were apart, but it was more difficult for her now than it had been when he was married. Seeing him now almost always caused her to physically ache from longing and, more than once, had tempted her to call him.

"I understand," she replied in a whisper.

"You do?"

"Yes, that night, the night I met with Cyrus, I saw you on TV with Grace."

"Oh," he replied, grateful that she couldn't see him when his skin flushed red as the memories of the things they'd done to each that night washed over him. "I wondered what inspired the change."

"You never asked," she remarked snidely, jolting him out of his happy memory.

"What?"

"After that night, you never called, never tried to see me, nothing."

Leave it to Olivia to immediately attack him where he was most vulnerable. After the night they shared, he was full of hope about the positives from their encounter, but as time passed he was overcome by his insecurities about the negatives. Yes, she had openly communicated her love and desire for him, but she also expressed her doubts about their ability to change and opted to leave rather than spend the night with him. Generally, he was the first to reach out to her after a separation, the one to persuade her that they were worth the forgiveness and sacrifice needed to move forward. This time she came to him, but he was uncertain if their reunion was the first step toward reconciliation or her temporarily giving into her physical desires. When she returned to the White House, he searched her words and actions for any indication that she was open to him being part of her life in any way, but, throughout their interactions, she presented as professional and distant. So, he responded to her in kind. Now, he wondered if he read her wrong, if she was simply protecting herself until she was certain of his intentions.

"Liv..."

"It's Liv now? After weeks of only calling me Olivia or not calling me at all?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. This conversation was headed in the wrong direction fast. He didn't call to upset her. Actually, he wasn't fully sure why he called or what he expected from her. He just knew that he missed her and her image on his television reminded him how much he wanted, needed her. So, he gave into weakness and called, a decision he was starting to regret. Eager to change the direction of the phone call and bolstered by her anger about his failure to reach out to her, he decided to be bold and see how she responded.

"Have dinner with me?" he asked.

Olivia physically recoiled from the phone in shock and stared at it in disbelief. She hadn't heard from him in six weeks and, out of the blue, he picks up the phone and asks her to dinner. She didn't know how to respond. She wanted to see him, but not if it was going to be like this, them coming together in a moment of weakness only to retreat to their separate worlds when the moment passed. She didn't have time for random hook-ups, not even with the man she loved. She placed the phone back to her ear, deciding to stall until she understood the motivation behind his invitation.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me."

"What about the press and Grace?"

"Grace is a wonderful woman and she will make someone very happy, but…"

"Someone?" she interrupted again.

"Yes, someone. I only plan to date her for about six months," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Why? Does she know this?"

"Do you really have to ask that question?"

"Am I supposed to know the answer?"

"Liv…"

"Fitz…"

She hoped she knew the answer, but was overcome with a sudden need to hear him say in his voice, his words, that he hadn't given up on her, given up on them. She knew that they were currently in a bad place, that she'd once again left him, but they'd fought their way back to each other through worse, and she needed to know that he believed they could do it again.

"Because I'm unavailable, at least to her. I'm in love with another woman."

"Fitz," she replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Let me finish," he continued. "I'm in love with another woman and, although we're not, _can't be_ , together, I'm not ready to date other people."

"Then why are you dating her?"

"Cyrus and Abby pushed me to date her. They said that it looks weak for the President to stay single for too long after being dumped by his very public girlfriend."

Olivia felt a twinge of anger that Abby was encouraging Fitz to move on. She'd suspected that Cyrus was behind the well-orchestrated publicity of Fitz and Grace's relationship, but she didn't expect Abby to support Cyrus's position. She understood that Abby was now professionally tied to Fitz, but couldn't help but feel betrayed by her friend's actions.

"You weren't dumped. We tried…"

"Did we?" he interrupted, his words barely audible. "That night," he paused, trying to decide where to start the conversation about that night. There was so much to say and he had so many questions, but getting Olivia to communicate was always a struggle and he wasn't sure how to proceed without causing her to flee further away from him.

"I understand. You don't have to say it."

"Do you? Because I don't. I don't understand how we became _those_ people. People who could say _those_ things to each other. What changed? How did we become the Fitz and Olivia that stood in that room hurling the worst at each other until there was no way to forgive, no way to stay together?"

Olivia sat in stunned silence. Did he really feel that they couldn't forgive each other for the words exchanged during that fight? He'd once told her there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't forgive. Was that no longer true? The words she angrily spat at him were cruel, but they didn't compare to all he lost that night. She wondered if he would be on the phone with her now if he knew the truth.

The ten seconds of silence that followed his questions were excruciating for Fitz. He knew he shouldn't have pushed her, but he couldn't stop himself. He wanted so badly to understand what happened to them, what led them to this place, and her immediate dismissal of the conversation frustrated him. He knew her well, well enough to know that there was more to that fight than what she expressed. He spent many hours in the months since she moved out analyzing every second of that moment from every angle and he was confident there was something else, something she wasn't telling him and _that_ terrified him. What could be so terrible she couldn't share it with him, even now when she had considerably less to lose? They survived Defiance, Operation Remington, Jerry's death, her kidnapping, and her father. They always found their way back to each other. What could she possibly be holding back now? He loved her, he would always love her. She had to know that, had to understand that he didn't place conditions on his love for her. Still, he knew she was keeping something from him and that worried him.

"You still haven't answered my question."

She knew if she ever wanted to have a future relationship with Fitz, they needed to have this conversation, but she hadn't decided how much of the truth to disclose and she was ill prepared to make that decision now. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have on the phone, but she was reluctant to push him away when it had taken him so long to reach out to her.

"What question?" she asked tentatively.

Silently conceding defeat, he asked, "Will you have dinner with me?"

Olivia exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding, relieved that he'd changed the subject.

"What about Cyrus and the press? I'm sure he doesn't want media coverage of you having dinner with your ex-girlfriend."

He cringed at her use of the phrase ex-girlfriend. It sounded so final and, for him, their relationship wasn't over, their circumstances may have changed, but he never planned to be over Olivia Carolyn Pope.

"Let me worry about Cyrus. We can eat in the residence. If you agree, I'll ask the chef to make the mac and cheese you like."

"The double dutch mac and cheese?" she replied beaming into the phone, her mouth watering at the memory of the first time she shared that dish with Fitz.

"Yes, the double dutch mac and cheese," he responded as he smiled into the phone recalling her very vocal, almost erotic, response to the chef's dish. "Well, will you come?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"It's a terrible idea, but you should come anyway."

"Fitz…" With that single word, she pleaded with him to stop his pursuit of her and silently willed herself to be strong. They weren't ready, the past five minutes were evidence of this. Still, they both knew she was coming to dinner, the only question was how long would it take for him to wear down her resolve.

"Stop thinking so much. Do you want to have dinner with me? Just dinner, some food, wine, and me. No pressure, just two friends having a quiet dinner."

"Two friends?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her.

"Yes or no, Liv?"

"Yes." She hated the control he had over her, the way her heart and mouth betrayed her mind and so eagerly gave into him.

"Yes?"

She laughed softly at his surprise. "Did you want me to say no?"

He loved the sound of her laugh, it was uniquely hers and not something her normally guarded persona displayed easily. It was a symbol that she was letting her walls down, just a little. He knew they could overcome whatever it was between them and believed that her agreeing to dinner was her taking a step toward him.

"No, but I didn't expect you to agree so easily."

"I can withdraw my acceptance if you prefer."

"No, don't, I'll take the yes."

"It's only because you tempted me with the mac and cheese," she teased.

"I would have led with that if I knew it would be so persuasive. I'll check with Charlotte and call you tomorrow to find a date."

"OK," she replied before a loud yawn escaped her lips.

"I should let you go."

"It's getting late."

"One more thing," he said before pausing for dramatic effect.

"Yes?"

"If you plan to make it to dessert, you should wear something a little," he paused to clear his throat, "friendlier than what you wore the last time I saw you."

She delightfully recalled his response when she showed up to Cyrus's office in a black mini-dress, pressing her legs together to quell her body's response to the memory of his touch. "The last time you saw me was in the Oval with Cyrus and Abby," she teased.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I do," she grinned wickedly, "and I'll try to find something a little more appropriate for our _friendly_ dinner."

He could feel her smiling through the phone and decided to push things just a little.

"I hate it when you're appropriate."

"Mr. President" she replied, tempting him with her sultry tone. "What happened to friends?" she asked in a demure voice, usually reserved for their playtimes.

Fitz flushed at the sound of her voice and groaned as his body began to respond to her teasing. She knew exactly how to push his buttons and he didn't anticipate her sudden change from the cool and cautious Olivia Pope to sexy minx that was toying with him now.

"If you want to keep things friendly, you should hang up now. I won't be responsible for what happens if you continue."

"It was your idea to be friends. Are you changing your mind? Don't want to be my friend anymore?" she pouted into the phone.

"Liv, seriously, stop or I'm coming over."

"Is your little threat supposed to encourage or discourage me?"

"We both know there's nothing _little_ about me and that I don't make threats. Last chance Livvie, hang up now or I won't stop until you're begging me not to stop."

The phone went silent as Olivia contemplated what to do. She knew she should hang up the phone. They were good at distracting each other with sex, ignoring their reality as they lost themselves in each other. They didn't need to be distracted now, not when they had so much ahead of them if they wanted to find their way back to each other. Yes, she started this with her teasing, but she didn't expect him to respond so strongly. On the other hand, she couldn't ignore how her body was responding to his voice. They'd only just started and she could already feel the dampness pooling between her thighs.

"Well, Livvie, what do you want?" he questioned, disrupting her thoughts. "Do you want to sleep or do you want to cum?" he asked in a sexy baritone.

Who was she kidding with her attempts at resistance, she was too wound up now to sleep. The only way she was relaxing tonight was to find her release. The unanswered question was if she was going to let him join her or not.

"Touch yourself for me Livvie."

"I can't," she whined softly, desperately trying to resist him.

"You can. You _want_ to. I can hear it in your voice."

"Fitz, please," she begged. 

"You can do it or I'll do it for you. Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?"

"I want…"

"What do you want Livvie?" he asked, his voice dripping with sex.

How many times had he asked her this question? It was simple enough for him to ask, but far more difficult for her to answer. She knew what he wanted her to say, and it wouldn't but a dishonest response, but this question was much easier to ask than answer because the range of potential answers were infinite. She paused, seriously contemplating how to respond. There were so many ways to answer that question, some more honest than others.

"I want to feel you inside me," she blurted out.

"You can Livvie. Reach in your top nightstand drawer and get your vibrator."

She smiled, realizing that he'd been snooping in her bedroom. They didn't spend a lot of time at her apartment, and when they were there together she was too distracted by him to worry about him finding her vibrator.

"Don't turn it on yet. Just get it for me."

She pulled opened her drawer and retrieved the vibrator as instructed. She traced the bulbous tip with her fingernail before running her fingers along the protruding silicone vein, wishing it was Fitz's pulsing member in her hand.

"I have it," she responded in a softy, breathy voice, signaling her surrender to him.

"That's a good girl," he cooed. "Now, just relax and let me take care of you."

She swiftly removed her pajamas and underwear, sighing softly as she settled back on her pillow, getting comfortable.

He waited patiently for her to get settled, listening closely for her breathing to slow down, signaling she was ready for him. When he sensed she was ready he said, "I want you naked for me so I can study every inch of your sexy, perfect body."

Olivia's body flushed with heat as she closed her eyes and allowed the memories of the intensity of his gaze to wash over her. She never felt sexier or more desired than she did when he paused his worship of her body to appreciate her physical form.

"My God, you are beautiful. Can you feel my fingers gliding across your skin, as I drag them softy along your thighs, headed up toward you stomach, working my way slowly to your breasts?"

Olivia sighed as she allowed his voice to guide her hands along her body, ignoring the all too familiar ache building between her legs.

"Do you feel my breath on your nipples as I draw one and then the other into my mouth? Do you like it when I lick…suck…and bite your nipples roughly with my teeth?"

Olivia moaned her agreement as her fingers became Fitz's tongue following his instruction to worship her breast, massaging the small globes before twisting and pulling her nipples until were tight little buds.

Fitz listened as Olivia's breathing became ragged with arousal. He could tell she wasn't in the mood for his teasing and suspected she would race forward without him if he didn't move things along.

"Spread your legs for me baby."

Olivia did as he commanded and slowly began to trail her fingers from her breast to her throbbing center.

"I want to taste your pussy. Will you let me taste you?"

"Yes."

"Yes what Olivia?"

"Fuck, Fitz. I want you to lick my pussy."

"Can you feel my tongue drawing little circles on your clit? Pulling your clit into my mouth roughly, flicking your clit with my tongue just the way you like."

Olivia's left hand found her center and easily glided through her moist folds as she slowly massaged her clit. Her breath hitched when the cool metal of the ring that adorned her index finger came in contact with her clit. She moaned loudly with pleasure, wanting Fitz to hear the effect his words were having on her body.

"I'm going to slide a finger inside you. Now two fingers. Are you fucking my hand while I suck on your clit?"

Surrendering completely to his voice, Olivia slowly inserted first one, then another finger into her drenched core.

"I'm so wet. All for you, only for you. You make me feel so fucking good," she panted as she quickened her pace eager to finally find her release.

"Don't cum yet baby, wait for me."

"Fitz," she whined, "Don't stop. I'm so close."

"Patience, baby. I'm going to get you there," he responding, savoring every moment of her pleasure. "God, you taste so fucking good. Do you want to taste yourself? Put your fingers in your mouth, baby. I want to hear you sucking on your fingers."

At this moment, she was so aroused that she would have done anything he asked. She swiftly, but reluctantly removed her fingers from her core and placed them in mouth, exaggerating her movements to make as much noise as possible, painting a picture for Fitz with her sounds.

"Damn, you are so fucking sexy. I want to be inside you when you cum."

Olivia knew immediately what he wanted and reached for her vibrator. She turned it to her favorite setting and held it near the phone so Fitz could hear the buzzing.

"I'm ready baby, are you?" he asked, signaling for her to proceed.

She reached between her legs and slowly inserted the toy, moaning loudly when the base made contact with her clit.

"God, you feel so good. You have the tightest pussy. I can feel your walls grabbing me and pulling me back into you."

Olivia thrust the toy deep inside her before pulling it nearly out and repeating the motion. It wasn't long until her hips were thrashing wildly as her orgasm approached.

"Louder baby. I can't hear you. I want to hear you scream," he softly encouraged her. Sensing she was close, he commanded, "Let go Olivia. Cum for me," hoping to push her over the edge.

She was so close and Fitz's words had pushed her right to the edge. Desperate for friction she needed to find her release, she slid her left hand between her legs and roughly massaged her clit.

"Fuck, Fitz. Shit, I'm coming," she screamed, dropping the phone as the intensity of her orgasm overwhelmed her.

Fitz fell silent and listened to her breathing as she struggled to recover from her orgasm. He wished he could be there with her, claiming her pleasure with his body instead of his words, but knew that their situation was precarious and was grateful for any opening she allowed.

Fully spent and finally relaxed enough to fall asleep, Olivia pulled the covers over her naked body and snuggled down in bed. Suddenly remembering that Fitz was still on the phone, she felt around her bed until she found her phone.

"Goodnight Fitz," she whispered sleepily into the phone.

He smiled brightly, once again amused by how quickly she transitioning to sleep following an orgasm. "Goodnight Liv. I'll call you tomorrow." He held on the line until he heard her snoring softly and added, "I love you," before disconnecting the call.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day, Fitz called as promised. It took them 10 minutes to find a day that worked for both of them, but they finally agreed to have dinner in three weeks. While they were disappointed that they couldn't find something sooner, both acknowledged their work and travel schedules were misaligned and three weeks was the best they could do.

Fitz, inspired by her anger about his previous lack of communication, made a point to call her a couple of times a week and she almost always answered, even if it was just to say she couldn't talk. Olivia was dismayed on more than one occasion when she happened upon coverage of yet another date with Grace, but in each instance was relieved to learn that she was the reason they didn't schedule for that date, it wasn't because Fitz prioritized Grace. Although they never talked about it directly, Fitz sensed his continued relationship with Grace made Oliva feel insecure, and he made a point to reach out to her after every date to demonstrate his continued interest and devotion.

Before either of them was prepared, the three weeks passed and the date of their dinner had finally arrived. Once again, Olivia was standing in her closet trying to find an _appropriate_ date dress that could pass for business attire in the event she was spotted by the press at the White House. After a couple of false starts, she finally settled on a Dolce  & Gabbana shift dress in a shade of blue that reminded her of Fitz's eyes. She paired the dress with a simple pair of nude Louboutin sandals, opted for a subtle natural look with her make-up, and left her hair in its usual straightened and curled style.

Olivia took one final review of her finished look in the full length mirror and noticed that her hands were trembling. She was a nervous wreck and couldn't identify why this dinner was causing her so much anxiety. She and Fitz had been on and off, mostly off, for the past eight years and she couldn't remember ever feeling like this about a possible reunion. Not that there was usually much time to spent thinking about or planning for a reunion. They were typically unexpectedly consumed by desire and once they gave into that desire, rushed headlong into a relationship that neither of them were prepared to handle. Things were different this time, better. While they still longed for each other, those feelings weren't driving their actions. They both seemed to understand that while they loved each other, they needed to build a foundation if they ever wanted their relationship to be about more than desire and longing.

Olivia used Fitz's insistence on sending a car to deliver her to the White House as an excuse to have a pre-dinner glass of wine to help settle her nerves. She was just finishing the glass when the driver called to alert her to his arrival. After quickly checking on and touching up her make-up, she grabbed her purse and keys and exited her apartment.

At the White House, Fitz was pacing around the living room nursing his second glass of scotch. Olivia was late and he was fighting the urge to call the driver and check on her. There were a million reasons why she could be running late, but he could only focus on one, she was having second thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was their last chance. If they couldn't make it work now, it was likely they never would. They had removed many of the obstacles to their relationship, his marriage, the press, the American people, and his time as president was quickly coming to an end. Now, most of what was left was their baggage and secrets. He was torturing himself with all the reasons their dinner plans were a bad idea – perhaps they were moving too fast, maybe he was pushing her too hard, maybe she just wasn't ready – when she breezed into the room.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We were half way here when I realized I left this," she said holding up her phone, "at home. I'm in the middle of a big case." Easing his fears before they could take root, she added, "Don't worry, my team has instructions to only interrupt me with an emergency, but we had to turn around to get my phone."

He smiled as he took in her appearance. She was simply the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and every time she entered a room he was caught off-guard, as if it was their first encounter. He quickly crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her small waist. "I thought you changed your mind."

"Why would I change my mind?" she asked, leaning up to greet him with a kiss. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and could taste scotch when he pressed his tongue in her mouth. She relaxed fully into his arm, comforted with the realization that he too had been pre-dinner drinking to quiet his nerves.

She broke their kiss and pushed away from him when she felt his hands snake under the hem of her dress. "I believe you promised me a friendly dinner, mister."

"This is a friendly dinner," he replied, flashing her a lopsided grin before pulling her back into his arms.

"Dinners usually involve food," she teased as she escaped his embrace.

"Food. Yes, of course. Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving. I was so busy trying to wrap things up so I could get here that I skipped lunch."

"Well, we can't have you passing out from low blood sugar. Come with me," he instructed grabbing her hand and leading her to the dining room. "I didn't know what you wanted with your mac and cheese so I asked the chef to pair it with a filet and brussels sprouts."

"Brussels sprouts?" she questioned, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

"Trust me, they're delicious," he added while helping her get seated. She smiled at him in appreciation, amused by his act of chivalry. Once they were both settled, he subtly nodded to the staff indicating they were ready for dinner service.

They quickly settled into a comfortable conversation over dinner. He filled her in on the Democrats' attempts to block his Supreme Court nominee. She listened attentively and commented here and there, but was careful to remain in the friend-zone and not offer advice or attempt to fix his situation. When the conversation turned to her, she kept it light, recounting for him the events surrounding some of her more entertaining recent clients. By the end of the dinner, they were both all smiles, complaining that their cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

When dessert was served, Olivia turned the conversation to Fitz once again. "What do you miss most about being a regular person?"

"That's easy, driving. It's been eight years since I've driven a car. Eight years! The first thing I'm doing when my term ends is buying a convertible and driving the PCH from San Francisco to San Diego. I can picture it now, the feel of the sun on my skin, the smell and taste of the ocean in the air. I'm going to take my time and stop along the way, enjoy the freedom and control of being a regular person. It's exactly what I need to recover from eight years in this place."

"You're returning to California when your term ends?"

"Honestly, I haven't really thought about it. I always assumed that I would return to California, but that was before..," he replied, his voice trailing off before he finished his thought.

"Before what?"

"Before everything that's happened. Before you. Before Vermont. Before the divorce. Before that night. Now, I don't know where I will live when I leave the White House."

"Fitz…"

"It's not an indictment, Liv," he interrupted. "Just fact. Today, I can't picture what my life will look like in 12 months. So, what's next for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there a lucky guy with a great head of hair, perfect smile, and firm handshake that you are going to make the next President?"

"What makes you think the next President will be a man?"

"You don't really think Mellie will be elected, do you?"

"Or Susan."

"Susan? You think the American people will elect Susan?"

"I convinced Virginians to elect her Senator."

"You also convinced them to elect Mellie, so that's not saying much."

"I think you underestimate my skill."

"I am well aware of your skill. I've been living in this house for the last seven years in large part because of your skill."

"You're not my best work," she said, hesitating and wringing her hands before continuing. "Both times we did terrible things to get you elected."

"Both times? I understand Defiance, but what did you do….," he paused when he noticed that her eyes were filling with tears. "Jerry," he said barely above a whisper. With that word, the tears Olivia was fighting to hold at bay broke free and escaped down her cheeks. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "That wasn't your fault. You didn't hurt Jerry," he said softly, but forcefully, willing her to stop blaming herself for her father's actions.

Olivia quickly composed herself, wiping away her tears before continuing, "That's an unimaginable loss for any person. I don't know how you survived as both president and grieving parent."

"I almost didn't," he replied, his voice now thick with emotion.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"That's a conversations for another day," he said, squeezing her hand softly. "Can I tempt you to join me for an after dinner drink?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"When have I ever been able to resist your secret stash?" He laughed and helped her from the table before leading her back to the living room. Once in the living room, he left Olivia to get comfortable while he went to the bar to get their drinks. When he returned, he noted that Olivia had settled in, slipping off her ridiculously high heels and folding her legs underneath her body. He handed her the drink and settled in on the other end of the couch, careful to leave enough space between them so that she wouldn't be crowded. Although the dinner had gone well, he sensed she was still a bit skittish and didn't want her to feel pressured.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Are you propositioning me Mr. President?" she asked, her voice dripping with sex. "I thought this was a friendly dinner."

"Not _that_ kind of proposition, but we can revisit that kind later, if you're willing," he said with raised eyebrows and a devilish grin.

"Cyrus is leaving the White House. He doesn't think I know, but Abby told me he's planning to leave the White House to run Governor Vargas's presidential campaign. When we announces his transition, I want you to replace Cyrus as my Chief of Staff."

"Did you invite me to dinner to ask me that?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment that this was a business dinner rather than the friendly dinner he promised.

"No, I only recently learned about Cyrus's activities and this idea just came to me when you said that my presidency wasn't your best work," he replied, closing the distance between them on the couch. "I asked you to dinner to do this," he explained before pulling her into a passionate kiss. He took his time kissing her, softly exploring her lips and mouth with his tongue. Olivia moaned in response, leaning into him, inviting him to take things further.

Fitz suddenly broke away from the kiss and retreated to his side of the couch, "Stop distracting me woman. I'm busy being brilliant here."

She laughed at his immodest display. "You think _me_ , your ex-girlfriend, working as _your_ Chief of Staff is a brilliant idea?"

"You're not my ex-girlfriend," he snarled. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued, "You are the best political mind in the country, better than Cyrus, better than anyone I know. Can you think of a more qualified person?"

"You want _me_ to work for _you_?"

"You worked with Mellie..."

"Are you having me followed again Fitzgerald?" she interrupted, glaring at him in warning.

"My full name, ouch, you wound me," he teased. "I'm not having you followed. I know your work and the leaked chapter of Mellie's book had your fingerprints all over it. Excellent work by the way, you easily interrupted the momentum Susan was starting to build. If you can work with _her_ , my ex-wife, why can't you work with me?"

"For you," she corrected.

"With me. I want a partner, not an employee. I realize now that I was wrong to try to turn you into a First Lady. I was scared, and angry, and all of the other things you accused me of being that night."

"Fitz, the things I said that night," she whispered, emotion weighing heavy on face.

He moved closer to her and gently placed his index finger across her lips to silence her.

"Just listen to me, you have a talent for finding people's hidden truths, their weaknesses, and their insecurities. You're like your father that way," he said with a wry smile.

"Fitz," she growled, her body tensing for a fight.

"I'm sorry," he raised his hands in surrender. "Unlike your father, you only exploit those weaknesses and insecurities with the people you love when you are avoiding or hiding something. I've had a lot of time to think about it, and that night you were hiding something, something much more than not wanting to play hostess for a stupid White House holiday dinner. I don't know what, but I hope one day you'll tell me."

"Fitz, that night I said those things because I…," she started to explain.

"Please, don't feel pressured to explain now," he interrupted. "Just know that when you're ready to talk, I'm here. My love for you is unconditional and nothing you could say or do will change that. I want to be your partner, Livvie, and us working together again is the first step."

"You think us," she paused, gesturing between the two of them, "working together is a good idea."

"I want us to prove to each other that if we trust each other, communicate, and work together, things are better, we are better. I want us to stop making decisions about each other in isolation. I want us to start by working together to set and execute my agenda for these last 12 months. Just think of what we could accomplish, together. There is work to be done regarding immigration, education, healthcare, and so much more. Together we could make meaningful change for future generations."

Olivia was swayed by his passionate speech, but believed that Fitz's idealism was preventing him from seeing the obvious. "Think about how that will look, Fitz. People will think I slept my way into the Oval or that you were so desperate to get into my pants that you hired me to control me."

"Is that what you think this is? My attempt to control you? I don't want to control you. We both know that I couldn't if I tried and I love you too much to force you to run away again. That's what this is about. I love you and I want to share my life with you. Right now my life is here," he waved his hands in the air, gesturing towards the walls. "I'm trying to create a safe space for you, for us, in the White House."

"Me working in the White House won't fix what's broken between us," she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I'm not that naïve, Liv. I know there's no quick fix for us. If we want to be together, we're going to have to do the work. I also know we've never been better, stronger, than we are when we're working together. I only have 12 months left as president and I want us to use this time to create a legacy that will make our great great grandchildren proud. Just think about what we could accomplish together. You once said you were a big dog. Prove it! Come back to me, Livvie. Come back and let's run the country, hell, let's run the world."

The tears in Olivia's eyes threatened to fall as she listened to him seamlessly weave his legacy as president with their future as a family. He was painting a beautiful vision of what their future could be, but she was having a difficult time conceptualizing how they would function in a professional relationship with the whole world watching, given their past more intimate relationship.

"It's only 12 months and then you can go back to being a regular person." He chuckled before adding, "That is if Olivia Pope can ever be a 'regular' person."

"You only want 12 months?"

"I'm asking you to commit to your country for 12 months, but I'm hoping at the end of 12 months, you will commit to me for the rest of your life."

"Is this a job offer or a marriage proposal?"

"It's a job offer. The next time I propose there will be no uncertainty about my intentions or your response. It will be perfect and you will say yes," he said as he moved closer to her on the couch.

"So, Livvie, will you be my Chief of Staff?" he asked, punctuating each word with a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I'll think about it," she responded breathlessly before pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Breaking their connection briefly, she panted, "Now, Mr. President, I believe you have another proposition for me."

While he would have preferred to press her for a more detailed response, he was powerless to deny her, especially when she was looking at him through eyes hooded with desire while biting her lower bee stung lip. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her and, for now, he was willing to take her however she would allow. He knew other men could offer her no-strings-attached, emotionless orgasms, but it would never be that way between them. They loved too deeply, shared too much, and knew each other too well. Those factors allowed him to reach her in places other men could never touch, but also meant that every time they came together a bit of her was exposed, made vulnerable, and he knew how much she hated that. So, for now, he allowed her to control things, to establish the rules of their arrangement, and to determine how and when they would move forward.

Fitz pulled Olivia towards him, pleased when she offered no resistance. Running his hands along the silky skin of her upper thighs, he pushed her dress up to her waist, allowing her to straddle him when he pulled her onto his lap. Her breath hitched when he ground his already hard member against her panty covered core. She wondered if being with him would ever grow old, if there would be a time when his simple touch didn't set her entire body on fire. A time when the heat of his gaze didn't make her flood with anticipation. They had more than their share of problems, but sex was never one of them. Here they were now, both fully clothed, and she could already feel that familiar sensation starting to coil in her belly. Deciding to give into that feeling rather than fight against it, she eagerly matched his movements, the friction between their clothed bodies stimulating her already swollen clit.

She moaned loudly, needing him to know just how ready she was for him. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, their lips meeting and tongues dueling for dominance. She opened her eyes and the look of pained pleasure on his face told her that he was just as intoxicated by her as she was by him. What they felt for each other was more than longing, it was desperation, just as vital for their survival and their next breath.

"Fuck Fitz," she whispered as he tugged on her hair roughly, breaking their kiss to attack her exposed neck, licking, sucking, and nipping at her delicate flesh.

He released his grip on her hair and palmed both of her breasts, surprised to find her nipples already stiff and straining against the thin material of her bra and dress. Needing to be closer to her, Fitz grabbed her dress and swiftly lifted it off her body, over her head, and tossed it across the room. He took a moment to appreciate her perfection before lowering his head to her chest and latching onto her nipple over the lacy material of her bra. Hoping to avoid yet another ruined La Perla garment, Olivia quickly reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Fitz temporarily released his hold on her nipple and allowed her bra to fall free for her body. He immediately returned his attention to her breasts, lavishing attention upon one with his mouth, while torturing the other with his skillful fingers. When she could take no more, Olivia grabbed a fistful of his curls, prying him from her breast, and pulling his face back to hers.

Eager to move things along, Olivia reached between their bodies and unfastened his belt and pants. Before she found her intended target, he grabbed her hands, stilling her movements.

"How badly do you want it?" he whispered against her ear, his deep baritone sending a slow shiver through her body.

Olivia freed herself from his grasp and reversed their position so that she was now controlling his movements. She brought his hand to her mouth and slowly sucked his index and middle fingers into her mouth, lubricating them fully with her tongue. He shot her a quizzical glance, curious as to where she was headed with her actions. She released him from her mouth, careful to keep his fingers moist, and guided his hand into her panties. They hissed in unison when his fingers finally made contact with her most sensitive area.

Holding tightly onto his shoulders, she closed her eyes and threw her head back in bliss, allowing the sensation he was creating between her legs to overwhelm her completely. Fitz strummed her perfectly, hitting all of her spots, repeatedly bringing her to the brink and then expertly denying her release. After a few times of being brought to the edge, only to be pulled back, Olivia felt a slow trickle of excitement spread throughout her body. This was a new sensation, but oddly pleasurable. Before she knew what was happening, she was caught in the undertow of her ecstasy, spiraling helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body.

Fitz was enraptured as this scene played out before him. Olivia's body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her face was beautifully twisted, her eyes wrenched shut, and her lips parted in the perfect 'O'. She was completely silent and her body was frozen in place, but her muscles were contracting wildly around his fingers. He had never seen her like this before, her body trapped in a wonderfully torturous cycle of orgasms, but knew that he wanted to keep her in this place as long as possible. He changed his pace, gently stroking her through climax after climax, careful not to stimulate her to the point of oversensitivity, until she finally collapsed against his body.

When she could finally speak, she panted out, "What was that?"

"I think it was an orgasm, but I've never seen you like that before."

She closed her eyes, snuggling closer to him. "It's never felt like that before." He grew silent, watching her to make sure she was okay.

"Careful, you won't fit through the door if your head gets any bigger."

"What? I didn't say anything," he replied, a satisfied smirk creeping across his face, relieved to have confirmation that it was a pleasurable experience for her.

"You didn't have to, I can hear your smug grin."

When she finally came down from her high, he slowly shifted her weight from his lap to his arms, preparing to carry her to the bedroom. "Where are we going?" she mumbled softly.

"To the bedroom," he whispered against the top of her head. He felt her body tense and was momentarily perplexed by her rapid demeanor change. Why was moving to the bedroom different for her than having sex on the couch? Suddenly he realized the issue, while she may be content sharing parts of him with Grace, she was uncomfortable with the idea of making love in the bed he shared with Grace.

He leaned away from her and added, "I'm not sleeping with Grace."

"What?"

He gently grabbed her face, tilting it up so that she was facing him, and waited for her to make eye contact. "Relax, Livvie. I'm not sleeping with Grace. You are the only woman I want in my bed."

Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck bringing his face to hers. They exchanged a series of long and lazy kisses, the desperation from earlier abated, as he moved them to the bedroom. Once there, he gently deposited her in the center of the bed, arranging her body as his own personal pin-up girl, before stepping back to admire her. The heat of his stare forced Olivia to open her eyes and take him in. He was fully clothed, perfectly still, and completely silent, and yet, in this moment, was the sexiest being she'd ever encountered.

She propped herself up on her elbows and seductively commanded, "Take off your clothes."

Fitz remained still, considering whether to give into his desire or allow her to take control. He was accustomed to Liv adopting a more passive role in the bedroom and knew that there was a limit to her ability to maintain this more assertive posture. He locked eyes with her and toed his shoes off, pushing them to the side with his socked foot. Without breaking eye contact, he removed his cuff links and placed them in his pocket. He took a step forward and continued his tortured teasing as he unhurriedly unbuttoned his oxford shirt. She licked her lips as his well-defined abs and happy trail slowly came into view. Encouraged by her visible reaction to his body, he continued moving forward. He paused to unzip his pants, allowing them to pool around his legs before quickly stepping out of them. He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down, and allowing his engorged cock to spring free. His cockhead was dripping with cum, its deep red color evidence of his arousal. He reached for his cock, smearing cum along his shaft before pumping himself slowly.

"Fuck, you are perfect," she hissed, her lust obvious in her voice. "Come here," she commanded, nearly undone with desire.

He walked to the edge of the bed, slowly crawling up her body until his face was hovering over her center. Using his hands, he removed her thong, dragging it slowly down her legs, and tossing it in a place where he was certain she would never find it. He kissed the inside of her left knee, using his head to gently wedge her legs apart. He continued, kissing the inside of her thighs, alternating legs, as he headed toward her center. When he reached his true goal, he paused to inhale her scent before lowering his lips to hers. She hissed her approval loudly. He took an exaggerated swipe of her slit with his tongue, before parting her lips and sucking her clit into his mouth.

Reluctantly, she pushed his head away and whined, "No, Fitz," knowing that another orgasm would leave her ruined. "I can't. Not again. Not without you."

He lifted his head so that he could see her and asked, "Together then?"

"Together," she replied.

He slowly crawled up her body, taking his time and lavishing her body with kisses as he made his way north. When they were eye to eye, he gently nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between them. He was surprised and unprepared when she wrapped her legs around his waist, quickly shifting her hips to flip them over so that she was on top. He chuckled softly at her play for dominance and sat up to kiss her. As their tongues traded positions, she carefully wrapped her legs around his waist. He pulled away from her and looked at her questioningly, wanting her approval to proceed. She gave him a quick nod before turning her focus to his ears, eliciting a slew of curses from him at the sensations she was creating with her talented tongue. He folded his legs, trapping his erection between them as he pulled her closer to him and into the lotus position. This position was the ultimate symbol of the compromise required to make their union work. It gave him the intimacy he craved, but to do so, he had to acquiesce control of their lovemaking to her.

When Fitz grew still, Olivia used his shoulders for leverage as she lifted her body and aligned his tip with her entrance. Desperate to connect with him, she ignored the discomfort of her walls stretching to accommodate him and swiftly lowered her body onto his, taking him in fully. She closed her eyes, pausing a moment to enjoy the feelings created by their union before she began to slowly grind against him. Once she set the pace, Fitz matched her movements, slowly rocking with her, holding her hips firmly. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, mimicking their leisurely pace in his kisses. She moaned loudly, enjoying the sensation of his chest hair brushing against her erect nipples while he hit her spot over and over again. Fitz diverted his attention from her lips to her neck, pausing briefly to take in her scent, a wonderful combination of her lavender shampoo and her arousal. He sighed contently as he allowed the pleasures of their lovemaking to overwhelm him. When Olivia could no longer ignore the pressure building in her abdomen, she reached her arms under his, grabbing firmly onto his shoulders, giving her the leverage she needed to bounce repeatedly on his member. It wasn't long before she cried out his name as she shattered in his arms.

Before her climax subsided, Fitz quickly shifted his position, stretching out his legs, to allow him to control their lovemaking. Without breaking their connection, he nudged her backwards, forcing her to release her grip on him with her legs. He lifted her legs, stopping to pepper her calves and ankles with kisses before placing them on his shoulders. As she easily assumed the position, Olivia silently thanked her yoga instructor, the flexibility on display a product of their partnership. Fitz gripped her hips, roughly holding her in place while thrusting repeatedly into her. Olivia eager matched his rhythm, rocking rapidly back and forth. The angle they created afforded him incredible depth and Olivia cried out with pleasure as his tip repeatedly massaged her cervix.

She was surprised when she once again felt a pleasurable tingling spread throughout her whole body. This time, she knew what to expect and she was not disappointed as the waves of ecstasy took hold of her body and she climaxed repeatedly. Olivia was so lost in her orgasm that she barely registered when Fitz reached his own climax, enthusiastically filling her with his seed as he professed his love for her.

Fully sated and exhausted, she rolled off of him and flopped back onto one of his plush pillows. "Fuck you," she panted breathlessly.

"What did I do?" he asked her incredulously.

"You did it again."

"I did?" he asked, barely able to contain his self-satisfaction.

"How did I ever give you up?" she asked, rolling back toward him, snaking her leg across his still pulsing shaft and drawing lazy circles around his nipple with her index finger, giggling softly when his body shuddered beneath her.

"I ask myself that question every day."

"You have any answers?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it," he replied checkily, flashing her his trademark grin.

Olivia groaned with disappointment over their loss of contact as she rolled away from him and got out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

"First, I'm going to take a shower, you're welcome to join if you like, and then I'm going home."

"Stay with me. Spend the night."

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

She smiled wistfully recalling that he asked the same question that last time she left him after sex. "I won't. Not yet. We shouldn't even be doing this, not if we want to be friends."

"I don't want to be your friend Livvie."

"I know, but that's where we have to start, especially if you want to be colleagues."

"Are you accepting my job offer?"

"I'm _thinking_ about accepting your job offer. I'm still not convinced it will work, plus I have my people to think about. What will they do while I'm here for 12 months?"

"We'll figure all of that out together _after_ you accept my offer."

Olivia looked at him contemplatively, but didn't offer a response. Instead she walked slowly toward the en-suite. Fitz moaned appreciatively at her naked form and the exaggerated sway of her hips.

"Are you joining me?"

"Do I have a choice?" he grumbled as dragged his exhausted body from the bed. He raced toward her, surprising her when threw her slight body into a fireman's lift, playfully swatting at her bottom while she squealed in delight. "I would do anything you asked me to," he added before nibbling at her waist, eliciting another round of squeals.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Fitz was sitting in his office reading briefs when he felt his cellphone vibrating in his jacket pocket. He frowned as he pulled out his phone. Only one person called him on that phone and she rarely called before 10pm. He pressed answer and raised the phone to his ear, but didn't speak.

"Hi."

"Hi," he replied, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Everything ok?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You rarely call in the middle of the day. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Do you think you can get away for a couple of days?"

"I don't know. Let me check." He placed the cellphone on his desk and used his office phone to buzz Charlotte.

"Yes sir?" she answered quickly.

"Will you come here for a minute?" Seconds later Charlotte was standing in front of his desk, tablet in hand, waiting for instruction.

"Can I get away for a couple of days in the next couple of weeks?"

"How long is a couple?"

"Good question. Hold on a minute," he replied, lifting the cellphone from the desk back to his ear. "Liv, Charlotte wants to know how long is a couple days?" Charlotte couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face as her boss spoke to his former lover. She was always fond of Ms. Pope and was disappointed when they broke up and he started dating Ms. Stone. She didn't know that he and Ms. Pope had reconnected, but would do everything in her power to free him so that he could spend time with the woman she knew held his heart.

"Charlotte," Fitz called, pulling her from her thoughts, "Liv defines a couple as two to three days."

Charlotte opened his calendar on his tablet and began scrolling through the weeks, looking for meetings and events that she could decline, cancel or reschedule to free up a couple of days. After a few minutes, she looked at Fitz and said, "I can move some meetings and free up a long weekend at the end of the month."

Fitz returned to the phone, "Liv, I'm available for a long weekend at the end of the month. Will that work?"

"I'll make it work," she replied. Fitz informed Charlotte of Olivia's reply, she nodded and hurriedly left the Oval, eager to start making arrangements.

Returning his attention to Olivia, he asked "Where are we going? Vermont?"

"I don't think we're ready for Vermont."

"I thought we were making progress," he whined, failing to conceal his disappointment at her response. Since their first dinner a few weeks ago, they'd made a point to prioritize each other, talking on the phone frequently and occasionally meeting for a discreet lunch or dinner. She still hadn't accepted his job offer nor had they had any real conversations about their relationship or future, but he was feeling positive on both fronts. Now he worried that his optimism was unfounded.

"We are," she responded, trying to ease his fears, "but Vermont represents so much for us and I don't want there to be any uncertainty between us when we return."

Fitz relaxed as he listened to her. She said when, not if, and this reassured him that his optimism was grounded in reality. "So, if not Vermont, where do you want to go?"

"I was thinking we could go to Camp David."

"Camp David?" he asked, surprised by her choice. "Really? Why do you want to go there? Is this trip for business or pleasure?"

"Think about it Fitz. It's the perfect place. It's staffed by the military so we don't have to worry about the press or leaks. Plus, it's close to home, so if either one of us is called back to the city, we can return, handle things and get back to each other quickly. Finally, we've done some of our best work there."

"So this _is_ a business trip?"

Olivia laughed at Fitz's stubborn, one-track mind. "Is that all you heard? There will be some business, sure, but I thought that's what you wanted, for us to be partners at work and in life."

"Are you accepting my job offer?"

"Patience Fitz, we'll talk about that and more at Camp David."

"Camp David is still weeks away. Are you going to leave me like this for weeks?"

Olivia doubled over with laughter. "You sound like a horny teenager whose girlfriend waited until the condom was on to tell him that she wasn't ready. Relax babe, good things come to those who wait."

"Are you promising me good things?" he asked, lowering his voice an octave.

Olivia ignored his flirting. "I'm promising you me. Is that enough?"

"Always."

"Excellent. I've got to go, Quinn is frantically waiving at me from the conference room. Something must be wrong with one of our clients. I'll see you soon?"

"Of course. Now that she knows it's for you, I'm sure Charlotte will find all kinds of openings in my schedule. I'll ask her to start making the preparations for Camp David at the end of the month. Do you want anything special?"

"No, just you. I really have to go."

"I know. I love you." Fitz was disappointed, but not surprised, when she disconnected their call without comment.

Over the next few weeks Olivia worked with Charlotte to ensure all of the details of the weekend were perfectly planned. Fitz, playing to his strengths, largely stayed out of the way, allowing the two of them to communicate directly. Once again, time passed quickly and the first day of their much anticipated long weekend was here. They both agreed that they would spend the morning wrapping up the week's work, hoping that would allow for a quiet weekend, and meet at Camp David later that afternoon. Fitz was lost in Senate Bill 754, soon to be presented to the House, when Charlotte entered his office.

"Sir," she cautiously interrupted, "it's time for you to leave."

"Already? I was hoping to finish this before I left. I'll just take it with me," he stated as he packed the things he would need from his desk.

"Sir, don't, it will wait. This weekend is for the two of you."

"Nonsense, it's a two hour drive to Camp David. I can wrap this up in the car. Olivia's always late, I doubt she'll be there when I arrive."

"Sir, please leave it here. Use the car ride to unwind before Ms. Pope's arrival."

"The president doesn't unwind, Charlotte. It will keep me busy during the trip."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Charlotte mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sir. Your bags are packed and in the car. Daniel will meet you at the exit. Do you need anything from me before you leave?"

"No, Charlotte. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome, sir. Have a good weekend."

"You too," Fitz replied as he headed out of the Oval, his secret service detail on his heels.

Fitz found Daniel and the rest of the weekend's secret service detail waiting at the exit. He quickly assumed his position wedged between his detail as they left the building, headed for the car. When they reached the car, an agent opened the door and ushered Fitz inside. As he slid into his seat, he was surprised to find Olivia seated inside waiting for him.

"This is a pleasant surprise," he said, leaning over to greet her properly. Olivia leaned forward and allowed him to pull her into his warm embrace, before tilting her head backwards in anticipation of his kiss. She hummed happily when he gently sucked on her bottom lip before easing his tongue into her mouth.

When the car started moving, she broke their kiss. "I should surprise you more often if this is how you respond."

"You say that like I have a choice. I am completely powerless to resist you."

"I do love that about you," she said, reaching out to smooth a stray hair.

"Is that all you love about me?"

She grinned broadly, using his tie to pull him toward her and into another soft and sensual kiss. They spent the next 20 minutes making out like teenagers, each enjoying the slow teasing, a welcome change from the usual urgency of their coupling. Eventually, Fitz pulled away from her, laughing at her exaggerated pout.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting company so I have a couple of things that I need to get through before I can focus completely on you."

"No need to apologize, I knew we would likely be interrupted at some point, so I also brought work to entertain me.

"Let's make a deal. We'll work for the rest of this car trip and then only emergencies for the rest of the trip."

"I can if you can."

"Deal."

They worked mostly in silence for the rest of the car ride, occasionally interrupting each other to share an interesting finding or pick the other's brain. After about an hour, Fitz tossed his briefs on the floor and turned his attention to Olivia.

"Have you ever had sex in a presidential state car?" he asked in a sexy baritone.

"I have," she replied cheekily, setting aside her work as well.

"You have?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Yes, in 1999 with Bill Clinton."

"You were a child in 1999."

"Correction, I was 20 and President Clinton was an excellent lover," she explained, barely containing her laughter.

"You're joking right?" he asked, suddenly finding it very difficult to read her.

"You know I am," she teased. "You read my kill file, only one president in there," she said before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Come here you naughty girl," he said before pulling her into his lap.

"What are you going to do old man, spank me?"

Fitz suddenly turned serious. "Do you think we have time?" he asked looking at his watch. It was a little under a two hour drive to Camp David and they had been traveling for more than 90 minutes.

"We do if you can be quick."

"You want me to be quick?" he questioned, confused by her request.

"I want you quick, not selfish," she said, punching him playfully in the arm. She leaned in and kissed him deeply before turning around in his lap and grinding against his crotch.

"When am I ever selfish?" He leaned back against the seat, moaning as he enjoyed the sensation she was creating in his pants. Eager to return the favor, he leaned forward and found that spot below her ear that drove her crazy.

"Mr. President," she hummed, turning her head so that she could capture his lips with hers. Olivia snaked her tongue in his mouth, sighing as he gently sucked on her tongue. She leaned fully against his chest and reached her hands around his neck, tugging lightly on his curls while she continued her slow gyrations in his lap. It wasn't long before she felt the familiar poke of his erection against her backside.

Olivia's movements in his lap were slowly driving him crazy. He reached around her body and massaged her breasts through her shirt. Frustrated by the material bunching under his fingers, he swiftly untucked her shirt from her pants and began unbuttoning it.

"Fitz, we're in a car, you can leave that on."

"I want you naked," he growled, thrusting against her clothed core as he continued to unbutton her shirt. Olivia rolled her eyes, wondering why she was always the naked one.

When he finally freed her from her shirt and bra, he moaned his appreciation for her beauty before cupping her bare chest, alternating between massaging her breasts and twisting her nipples while he kissed, licked, and sucked on her ears, neck and shoulder. Fitz fumbled in front of her, trying to unfasten her pants. "Why are your pants so complicated with all of these buttons and clasps? Why didn't you wear a dress or yoga pants?"

"Have you ever seen me in yoga pants?" she asked as she quickly her unbuttoned pants, removing them and placing them neatly on the seat she used to occupy.

"No, but I know you do yoga, so you must own yoga pants." He tickled her ribcage. She giggled softly. How he loved that sound. Oliva rarely laughed freely, and he was pleased to note that the farther away from the city they traveled, the more relaxed she appeared.

"Less talking, more kissing," she demanded as she scooted forward in his lap, reaching behind him to unbuckle his belt and pants. She squealed loudly when he unexpectedly lifted her from his lap with one arm while he used the other to lower his pants and boxers.

"Shhh, we're not the only people in this car." Olivia flushed with embarrassment that her excitement led her to forget their situation. She was immediately distracted when Fitz pulled her against his body, trapping his erection between their bodies. He again focused on her neck while his fingers tortured her nipples.

Nearly undone with desire, Olivia begged, "I need you now. Fuck me, please."

Fitz made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Patience, Livvie. Weren't you the one that told me good things come to those who wait?" As he was talking, Fitz crawled his fingers from her breast, down the center of abdomen, pausing to draw circles around her belly button before dipping into the folds of her core, eliciting a loud gasp from Olivia. With his free hand, Fitz gently turned her face and covered her lips with his, muffling the sounds of her moans. He gently entered her with one finger, then another, slowly pumping in and out of her sopping core while he massaged her clit with his thumb. When he could tell she was getting close, he withdrew his fingers, ignoring her whimpers of protestation, and repositioned her body so his shaft was resting against her mound. He rubbed his head repeatedly against her slit, lubricating his shaft in her fluid before entering her in one swift thrust. Olivia cried out in shock, but quickly regained her composure, balancing herself by positioning her hands on his knees as she slowly started to move, easily sliding up and down on his cock. As she adjusted to his size, she began to increase her pace, eagerly bouncing up and down on his lap. He loved the way her breasts jiggled when she moved, but was tortured by the fact that their current position prevented him from latching onto them. He matched her movements enthusiastically and it wasn't long before the car was filled with the sounds of their moaning and skin slapping together.

He could tell her orgasm was approaching by the erratic way her walls were squeezing him and the pained noises she was making. There was no better feeling than being buried deep inside her as her walls milked him, holding him tightly as he plunged into her. She was starting to lose her rhythm so he firmly gripped her hips, slamming her tiny body repeatedly onto to his throbbing shaft. When he was certain she was only a few strokes away, he released her hips and used his three fingers to stimulate her clit. That push was all she needed to fall over the edge as she came violently, calling his name as her whole body twitched uncontrollable.

Fitz, nursed her through her orgasm, swiveling his hips, creating a delicious friction, rather than pounding into her. When she recovered, she leaned her body forward, bracing herself with her arms against the floor of the car. Fitz once again tightly gripped her hips and started to slam into her. Olivia was helpless in this position, willingly taking his punishment, hoping that her arms could sustain their combined weight. It wasn't long before he was jack rabbiting into her, muttering an incoherent slew of curses and compliments as he found his release. When they were both spent, he collapsed backwards onto the seat, pulling her with him.

"Do you think they heard us?" she panted, motioning toward the driver and secret service agent in the front seat.

"I'm positive they heard you, but it's not the first time. You can be exuberant in your encouragement if I'm stroking you right."

She laughed. "Someone's full of himself today."

"Have I earned it?"

"You have." She turned around and kissed him. "That was amazing and perfectly timed", she said gesturing out the window as the motorcade passed through the security gate at Camp David.

The two of them reluctantly parted and hurried to get dressed. They knew the secret service agents were probably embarrassed enough and they didn't want to further that embarrassment by only being partially dressed when they opened the car door.

"Well, now I can say I've have sex in a presidential state car. Thank you Mr. President," she said, leaning in to kiss him as the secret service agent knocked to alert them to their arrival. "How do I look?" she asked, before knocking to give permission for the agent to open the door.

"Beautiful. Like you've just been fucked in the backseat of a car, but beautiful." She playfully swatted at him before stepping out the car and walking toward the cabin. Olivia squealed with surprise when Fitz swept her off her feet, carrying her across the threshold and into the cabin.

"Fitz, what are you doing?"

"It seemed appropriate given we are here to celebrate our new relationship," he said before gently placing her on the couch. "Now, you promised me answers Ms. Pope," he prompted, hoping to get the business part of this weekend over with so that they could spend the rest of their time focused on each other.

When Olivia first proposed a long weekend out of town she thought she was ready to tell him everything, but looking at him now, the hope gleaming in his eyes made her second guess herself. She knew that she couldn't accept his job offer and continue to repair and strengthen their relationship without first being honest with him. Once before they'd promised each other no more secrets, but somehow they forgot that pledge. This time, their relationships, both personal and professional, had to be different, they had to change the patterns of the past if they wanted a different future. Her first step to changing those patterns was this weekend. If things went according to her plan, she knew the days ahead would painful and exhausting, but she wasn't ready for that, not yet. If they weren't going to make it through this, she wanted to spend one more night wrapped in the safety and security of his love.

"Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to enjoy being alone with you."

"It's your trip, your rules. What do you want to do first?"

"First I want to shower and change clothes. Someone got me all sticky and wrinkled in the car," she teased.

"Group shower. Sounds like an excellent idea."

"No, separate showers because the second thing I want to do is eat. I'm starving and if we shower together we'll be in there for an hour."

"Fine," he pouted, "you get changed in the master bedroom and I'll take one of the guest rooms."

"Are you sure? It's seems poor form to throw the president out of his bedroom at Camp David."

"It's our bedroom and I'm sure. Now hurry up so we can feed you and move on to other, more entertaining, things," he said as he pulled her up from the couch.

"Are you always thinking about sex?" she asked as she threw one of the couch pillows at his head.

He quickly ducked, laughing at her poor aim. "No, just when I'm with you." With that, he swatted her on the ass before quickly moving in the direction of the guest room, not giving her a chance to retaliate.

"You'll pay for that," she shouted to him as he rounded the corner.

"I certainly hope so."

When Olivia emerged from the bedroom twenty minutes later, she found Fitz dressed and waiting for her on the couch. She took a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked with his hair still damp from the shower, dressed casually in his Navy t-shirt and jeans. "Something smells delicious," she said, alerting him to her presence.

"I agree. Shall we go find out what it is?" he asked, reaching for her hand before guiding her to the dining room.

They rounded the corner into the dining room and were both frozen in place by the romantic scene before them. The dim room was lit by flickering candles; the table was elegantly set with contemporary china and large wine goblets; red roses adorned the centerpiece, with loose petals sprinkled across the table; and deep red linens that perfectly complemented the roses added the finishing touch.

"Fitz, you shouldn't have."

"I didn't," he said sheepishly. Olivia looked at him questioningly. "It must have been Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

"Yes, she's one of your biggest fans."

"But, how?"

"She's very resourceful. When my term is up, you should think about hiring her. You could use a good assistant."

"Let's see what she selected for the menu. If she included the mac and cheese, I may not wait until the end of your term to steal her away from you."

Fitz released a full belly laugh. "Now who's full of themselves? Why would she leave me, the president, to go work for my chief of staff?"

"Fitz," Olivia warned.

"I know, no talking tonight, but we both know you're going to say yes. Why not just tell me now and put me out of my misery?"

"Weren't you the one lecturing me about patience earlier today?"

"Yes, but I didn't make you wait a whole day to get what you wanted."

"You couldn't wait until we arrived," she said as she moved from her seat to his lap. "Do you really think you could have made me wait a day?" she whispered in his ear while massaging him through his jeans.

"Livvie," he growled, "I thought you wanted to eat. The staff will be back any minute with our meal."

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. She reached into his boxers and began to fondle his still soft member. Fitz knew Olivia was working overtime to distract him and delay the conversation they were there to have, but he was unable to contain his moan when her warm hand made contact.

Fighting to maintain his composure, he asked, "Liv, do you really want to the staff to return and catch us with my dick in your hand?"

"Would you rather they catch us with your dick in my mouth?" she asked, sliding from his lap to the floor, kneeling in front of him. She stroked him a few times, ensuring that he was mostly erect before taking him into her mouth. Fit immediately tangled his fingers in her hair, enjoying the feeling of her warm, wet mouth wrapped around him.

"Fuck," he exclaimed as she swirled her tongue around his head before slowly kissing and gently nipping her way to the base of his shaft. "Livvie, you can't do this, not here."

She quickly released him from her mouth, but continued to stroke him with her hand. "I can and I am. Now be quiet and relax so I can finish before dinner arrives. I'm starving, remember," she said with a wicked grin, winking at him before taking him back into her mouth. She looked up at him to make sure he was giving into her and was encouraged by the serene expression on his beautiful face. She quickly established a rhythm, alternating between bobbing up and down on his member and lavishing attention on his head while stroking him with her hand. It wasn't long before Fitz's hips were bucking in his chair.

"Shit, Livvie. Fuck. Don't stop. Just like that," he instructed as she took him deeply into her throat. Olivia moaned her response, sending small vibrations down his length, pushing him closer to the edge. He once again tangled his fingers in her hair, this time using his hands to control her movements. It only took a few more bobs for him to unload in her mouth. She released him with a loud pop, reaching on the table for one of the cloth napkins, wiping her face. While Fitz remained in his chair, panting, struggling to recover from his orgasm, she used the napkin to quickly clean him up before placing him back in his boxers and adjusting his jeans. She was back in his lap, kissing him slowly, allowing him to taste himself, when the server entered with the meals.

"Once again, you have perfect timing," she whispered in his ear before moving from his lap to her side of the table.

"You are wicked. What's come over you? You used to be reserved and cautious, clinging to your need to be appropriate."

"You were married before and president or running for president. Things are different now. You're divorced and free to be appropriately inappropriate with whomever you want."

"Appropriately inappropriate?"

"Yes, you're still president so you have to protect your public image, but privately your girlfriend can give you a blowjob at the dining room table if that's what you want."

Fitz's heart lurched when she referred to herself as his girlfriend. He hoped that she asked him here for a long weekend to discuss their personal relationship, but knew it was far more likely that she asked him there to hash out the details of their professional relationship. They hadn't talked about the current status of their personal relationship. He suspected Jake was still in her life, but his relationship with Grace prevented him broaching the subject with her. He knew he only wanted to be with her, wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy, it was his only consistent desire, but he didn't know what she wanted. Despite his numerous attempts, Olivia had proven herself incapable of articulating her wants, even in the best of circumstances. He wondered if this weekend would be different, if she was finally ready to be honest with him and express her wants and feelings beyond her desires.

Olivia immediately regretted using the word girlfriend and these feelings were amplified when she saw the faraway look on Fitz's face. He was difficult to read and she wondered what he was thinking, wondered if her slip up pleased him or made him uncomfortable. She wasn't thinking when she said it and that was sloppy and uncharacteristic of her. She wasn't Fitz's girlfriend, Grace was, and she knew that. Yes, she and Fitz were spending more time together, but he also continued to see Grace. She felt the doubt start to creep in as she considered how much of their day was real and how much was an artificial relationship experience. Despite her doubts, sitting across from him, watching the candlelight flicker across his face, she felt like his girlfriend. She felt like the most important person in his life and that made her feel safe and loved. Could this be real and could they sustain these feelings when they were no longer sequestered away from their real lives? More importantly she wondered if he would still feel this way after she told him the things she brought him here to discuss.

They were both relieved when they were pulled from their thoughts by the server returning to clear their dinner plates before serving dessert. After finishing her dessert, Olivia's pushed away her empty plate and leaned back against her chair, settling into a post-meal haze. Fitz laughed aloud watching her. "Are you sure you're the same person I used to know? The one that I watch sustain herself for nine months on only wine and popcorn."

"I think I was spoiled by my time in the White House. Now I try to eat at least one real meal a day."

'I'm glad something positive came from that time."

"That's not fair," she said, sitting up in her chair and reaching for his hand. "It wasn't all bad. It was just too much, too soon. We weren't ready."

"And now?"

"Now, I need to go to the kitchen and speak with the chef," she said, deflecting his question. "I'll meet in you the great room."

Twenty minutes later, Olivia walked into the great room sporting a cheshire cat grin, obviously concealing something behind her back.

"What are you hiding? The chef's mac and cheese recipe? I thought the great Olivia Pope didn't trade recipes."

"I don't. I negotiate deals," she said as she brought her hands forward, twirling a set of keys on her index finger.

"What are those?"

"The keys to a 2014 Toyota Camry. The chef's car."

"It took you twenty minutes to talk the chef out of his car keys?"

"No. That only took five minutes. It took me 15 minutes to convince Daniel to allow you to shed your secret service detail."

"What are you up to Liv?"

"You said you wanted to drive," she explained, tossing the keys to Fitz. "We're going for a drive. We have to stay within the security gates, you have to stay in the car the entire time, you have to wear your seatbelt at all times, and you can't drive faster than 30 miles an hour, but Daniel agreed to let us go. Just the two of us. Now hurry up, the chef is relieved of duty in a couple of hours and will need his car back so he can leave."

They quickly found the car and hopped inside. Olivia erupted into a fit of laughter when Fitz slammed his knees into the dashboard, forgetting to adjust the seat before being sitting down.

"You poor out of touch thing," she teased, "in the real world everything is not perfectly adjusted to your needs, waiting for you to grace it with your presence."

"You're such an ass."

"Maybe, but tonight I'm your ass."

"I like the sound of that," he flirted, rubbing his hand along her leg, blazing a trail from her knee to her upper thigh before wedging his hand between her legs and cupping her sex. She spread her legs wider, giving him better access, moaning softly as he began to tease her through her pants.

"It drives me crazy when you make that sound," he remarked, shifting in his seat so that he could lean forward and kiss her.

Trying to ignore the sensations his skillful hands and mouth were creating, she pushed away from him. "I thought you wanted to drive."

"I do, but I'd rather be inside you."

"We can't do that here."

"What? Why not? What happened to the woman that gave me a blowjob at the dining room table? I thought she was up for anything."

"She is. I am, but not here. The chef did us a favor and was fairly excited by the idea of the president driving _his_ car. We can't thank him by returning his car reeking of sex. I don't think those are the bragging rights he was hoping for."

Fitz groaned as he pulled away from her. "I suppose you're right. I hate it when you're right."

"I'm always right. You should be used to it by now," she teased before leaning over and giving him a peck on the check. "Now drive Mr. President."

Fitz repositioned himself in his seat and stared at the steering wheel. "Where do you put the key?"

"You don't, you push that button there."

Fitz pushed the button and the engine roared to life. "I feel like a dinosaur."

"You're not that old. Just a lot of out practice. Someone has been taking care of your every need for the past 8 years."

"Not my every need," he said, dropping his voice to the octave he knew drove her crazy.

"We are driving, remember, stay focused. You got it from here or does anything else look foreign to you?"

"It all looks foreign to me, so many lights, buttons and screens. When did cars become so gadgety? Makes me long for an American muscle car." Fitz put the car in reverse and the back-up camera came to life. "Really? Cameras? People can't turn their heads?"

"Shut up and drive old man."

Fitz pressed the accelerator and the car lurched backwards, eliciting another round of laughter from Olivia. "You think this is funny?"

"I didn't know someone could forget how to drive."

"I didn't forget how to drive, I just lost my touch a little. Give me a minute." After suffering through a couple more jerky moments and a few rounds of teasing from Olivia, Fitz found his rhythm behind the wheel, cruising slowly around the camp.

When she was confident Fitz had settled in, Olivia slipped off her shoes, reclined in her seat, and rested her feet on the dashboard. She closed her eyes and asked, "Do you have any regrets?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Life, the campaign, your presidency, your marriage, us. Anything."

"I thought you didn't want to talk today."

"I'm not talking, you are. I'm listening."

"Will you answer these same questions tomorrow?"

"If you want me to. Now, answer the question."

"I have lots of regrets, lots of things I would do differently. I wish we ran the campaign we wanted to run, a clean campaign. It would have been better to lose honorably than the win the way we did. It wasn't so bad when we thought we were going to lose to Sally. We were all disappointed, but we were mostly proud of the way we handled ourselves."

"I wish that I spent more of my presidency devoted to being president. I'm proud of my accomplishments, especially the Brandon Bill, but I can't help but wonder how much more we could have accomplished if the team remained together. That's not to blame you. I understand why you left, why you felt you couldn't continue working in the White House, but not having you around changed things, changed me, and not all of that was good."

"I wish I would have pushed Mellie harder when our marriage started to fail, really put in the work to save my family. I spent all those years taking it personal, feeling like a failure, when the truth was she was the victim, not me. I was too focused on me to acknowledge her pain or to look for the root of her unhappiness. How were you, my…" his voice trailed off.

"Your mistress," she interrupted

"I hate that word."

"I know, but it's accurate," she said wistfully.

"You are the love of my life."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive. I was both your mistress and your love," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

He slowly brought the car to a stop and reached for her. Avoiding eye contact, she whispered, "I promised Daniel that you wouldn't be stationary for too long."

He turned her face so that she was looking at him and waited patiently for Olivia to make eye contact. After 90 seconds of watching her look everywhere but at him, he quietly commanded "Livvie, look at me." After an extended pause, she slowly raised her eyes so that they were both looking at each other.

"There you are," he said softly. "Olivia Pope, you _are_ the love of my life. I will always be actively in love with you. It won't always agree with you or like who you are or what you've done, but I will always love you and I will never leave you. Nothing and no one will ever change that. Do you understand?"

Olivia's eyes filled with tears as she listened to his emphatic declaration of love and commitment. She wanted, needed, to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe that they would survive this weekend together and emerge in a better place, but she was afraid. Afraid that he didn't know who she really was, that he underestimated what she was truly capable of, and that once he saw her, really saw her he wouldn't, couldn't, love the person before him. But now wasn't the time to let her insecurities loose, she would save that for tomorrow. Instead, she leaned forward to kiss him, but he abruptly stopped her advances. "I need you to use your words, Livvie. I need to hear you say that you understand and believe me."

"I understand," she replied in a weak voice.

"But you don't believe me. Do you?" he asked, the pain evident in his voice.

"Fitz…," she breathed, the tears freely falling now.

"Earlier, you asked about my regrets. My biggest regret is how I reacted when I found out about Defiance."

Olivia looked at him quizzically, uncertain where he was going. Fitz acknowledging her uncertainty continued, "Not what happened with Verna. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't let her hurt you. Verna was so vile in that conversation. She was challenging the legitimacy of my presidency and my blind trust in the team. At first I was shocked and full of disbelief, but as she kept talking I accepted what she was saying, accepted that my time as president was over and that my reputation would be forever ruined. It wasn't until she mentioned you, threatened you, that things changed. In that moment all I could process was that Verna was sacrificing you to clear her conscience and I couldn't let that happen. I had to protect you. It's not pretty, but it's the truth, and we both know that I would, and have, done it again."

Olivia, still confused, replied, "If not Verna, what do you regret?"

"I regret the man I became and how I treated you after I learned about Defiance. I allowed my anger and disappointment to harden me. It took me almost losing you…"

Olivia interrupted, "It was a concussion. You didn't almost lose me. I was never in danger."

"You never explained how you were injured. What happened that night?"

"I'm listening, not talking, remember. Ask me again tomorrow and I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything you want to know tomorrow."

Fitz, trying to hide his frustration with her response, continued, "It took me almost losing you to see how foolish I was being. I wasted a year being hurt and angry with you, instead of forgiving you and finding a way to move forward. We still haven't recovered from the damage that was done that year."

"Damage?"

"Yes, damage. You don't believe me now when I say that I will always love you and never leave you because after learning about Defiance I didn't treat you like the woman I loved. I was harsh and cruel and punished you every time an opportunity was presented to make myself feel better. I left you in that church and didn't look back. I didn't care about the sacrifices you made to be with me. All I cared about was my pain and disappointment. Worse yet was my callous disregard for your well-being. I invaded your privacy and sent Jake into your life to watch you. I didn't send him to sleep with you, I would never invade your person, but my decisions and actions allowed him to gain access to you, to insinuate himself into your life, a position he's never fully relinquished."

"Fitz," she replied before pausing, uncertain how to respond to his statement. Jake filled a specific void in her life, but she didn't know how to explain this to Fitz without him assuming responsibility for the void. Her arrangement with Jake had very little to do with Fitz, but it would be remiss of her not to acknowledge the connections he must have drawn by her yo-yoing between the two men.

"I'm not asking you to comment. You don't owe me any explanations about Jake. I just wanted you to know that I'm owning and have learned from my past mistakes with Mellie and with you. This time will be different, I'm different, and, given enough time and trust, I will prove it to you. We can't move forward without trust and I hope this weekend will be the start of us building that foundation of trust."

Olivia turned away from him, staring out the window, unable to process the intensity of his words and emotions. It was almost as if he could read her mind and was begging her to trust him enough to be her safe space. She wanted that desperately, but as much as she wanted to trust that he was being sincere and that his love for her would prevent him from leaving again, she couldn't reconcile that with her previous experiences. When she disappointed people they left her, unless she found a way to leave them first. That was her story and there was no reason to believe this chapter would end any differently.

Fitz watched as Olivia stared out the window lost in her own thoughts. In an attempt to interrupt her thoughts, he commented, "We should head back, the chef's shift will be ending soon and he will need his car." When she offered no response, he put the car in gear and slowly accelerated, heading back to the staff parking lot. As they rode together in silence, he replayed his side of the conversation back in his head searching for the trigger that forced her into her shell. Coming up empty, he reached for her hand, hoping the contact would bring her back to him. She squeezed his hand in response, but remained quiet. Fitz, not known for his patience, fought the urge to push Olivia. They had the rest of the weekend together and he knew she'd come back to him when she was ready, she was worth the wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Fitz eased the car into the chef's parking space and glanced at Olivia. She continued to hold his hand, but was staring out the window into the darkness and remained completely silent. He released his grip on her hand and exited the car. When he turned to reach for her, he noticed that she hadn't moved to exit the car. Worried for her, he hurried to her side, opened the passenger door, and helped her out of the car. Without speaking, Olivia wrapped her arm around his waist and snuggled into his side. Fitz was comforted by her actions, but her continued silence was starting to concern him. As a couple, they shared many quiet moments, but this silence made him uncomfortable. She was reacting to something and that something was shutting her down, but he didn't know what triggered her sudden retreat. Her promise that they would talk tomorrow was the only thing keeping him from pushing her harder in this moment.

When they entered the main cabin, he offered to return the keys to the chef while Olivia prepared for bed. She nodded her head in agreement and unwrapped herself from his body. As he moved to leave, she reached out and grabbed his hand pulling him toward him. She reached up and caressed his face with both hands before placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. "Thank you," was she all offered in explanation before rounding the corner toward the bedroom. Fitz quickly found the chef and returned his keys, accepting the chef's offer of a nightcap and a brief chat before heading to bed.

He approached the bedroom door cautiously, a little apprehensive about what was waiting for him on the other side. He knocked softly before opening the door slowly, not wanting to surprise her. Relieved to find that she was still in the bathroom preparing for bed and unsure of what to do, he entered the walk-in closet to find pajamas. The vision of their clothes neatly displayed side by side nearly overwhelmed him. The image, so ordinary and domestic, was exactly what he wanted for their future, a safe and shared space where they created a home. His eyes fell upon her favorite lounging sweater and he lifted it to his face, deeply inhaling her scent, a combination of her lavender body wash and French perfume. After a few seconds, he refolded the sweater neatly and returned it to the shelf where he originally found it. Refocusing on his original task, he found his pajamas and quickly undressed, opting only to wear the bottoms. He didn't usually wear a shirt when he slept with Olivia and, although she was in a distant place, he felt like he would be shutting her out if he changed his routine tonight.

He was seated at the foot of the bed, watching CNN, when Olivia finally emerged from the bathroom. She walked in front of the television and stood there staring at him, the sadness in her eyes unmistakable. He powered off the television and asked, "Liv, honey, what's wrong. Talk to me."

She dropped her robe, revealing her naked body, and slowly walked toward him. When she was within reach, he stopped her advances. "Liv, what's going on? You've only said two words in the last hour and now..."

She silenced him by gently placing her index finger across his lips. "Shhh…no more talking. Tonight I just want…"

"What Liv?" he asked, trying desperately to understand what was happening. "What do you want?"

"I want to feel."

"What do you want to feel?"

"Loved," she whispered softly.

That single word was his undoing, his need to imprint his love on her soul pushing away his uncertainty and concern. Fitz stood up and pulled her toward him, wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her small body into his arms. Immediately, his lips found hers. He started with a series slow, sensual kisses, before running his tongue along her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and tangled her hands in his curls, simultaneously pulling him toward her while wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, pressing her body closer to his. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, joining hers in a familiar dance for dominance.

Wanted to connect with him more fully, Olivia untangled her hands from his hair and moved them between their bodies, trying to free him from his pajamas. "No, wait," he said softly, lifting her higher so that he was out of reach. "Not like this. Let me make love to you." Olivia halted her movements and looked deeply into his eyes. Slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him toward her and into a deep kiss. Matching her fervor, he returned her kiss as he walked them toward the bed. He lowered her onto the center of the bed and stepped back, causing Olivia to whine at the loss of contact, to remove his pajamas before joining her.

Lovingly, Fitz caressed her throat, applying a gentle pressure to turn her face away from his, allowing him to find his favorite spot on her neck below her ear. She moaned softly, her soft, plump lips parting ever so slightly, and parted her legs, inviting him to settle between them. He took his time exploring her, reintroducing himself to every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue as her body writhed beneath his, pleasure emanating from her core and coursing through her veins.

Crawling up her body, he leaned forward, to capture her lips with his for a brief kiss. Breaking their kiss, he left a trail of small kisses along her jawline, neck, and shoulder. She cried out in ecstasy when Fitz lowered his head to her breasts and gently took her nipple into his mouth, her hips involuntary lifting off the bed and pressing against him. "Look at me," he softly commanded in an octave he only used during sex, staring at her with an expression of love so palpable it caused her eyes to well with tears and her center to flood with desire. He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Don't cry. I'm here. I will always be here. I love you. Whatever it is, I love you."

Despite her best attempts, Olivia was unable to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. This could be the last time he whispered those words. It could be the last time he looked at her through a lens of pure, unadulterated love. Losing the battle completely, she turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears as they began to fall freely.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing away the tears on her cheek, unsure how to support her in this moment.

"No, don't. I'm okay. I just need to be with you, to feel every inch of you."

"Okay," he said in a hushed voice. "But, I need you to look at me. I need to know that I'm not hurting you."

Olivia nodded and turned to face him, staring into his eyes as he slowly entered her, releasing a strangled moan when they were fully connected. When he pulled out, she arched her back and spread her legs wider, allowing him deeper access. He groaned with pleasure when he was once again engulfed in her warm, silky heat. He took his time, gently loving her, swiveling his hips and grinding against her. "Yes," she cried as his movements repeatedly found her most sensitive spots. Fitz watched her carefully when he moved her legs from his waist to his shoulders, grabbing her hips to anchor her to him as he began to thrust deeply into her. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, her eyes were closed, and her lips parted slightly as she accepted the love he was pouring into her.

She hissed her disappointment when he suddenly broke their connection. Ignoring her protestations, he flipped her over and covered her body with his. She squealed in surprise when he reentered her with one long, hard thrust. He leaned forward and whispered his repeated declarations of love in her ear as he pumped rhythmically into her, trying to convince her body of his love, even if her mind couldn't accept it. Snaking his hand between the mattress and her body, he searched for her sensitive nub. She cried out when he made sudden contact, begging him not to stop, to take her to that place that only he could.

He doubled his efforts, determined that she would shatter in his arms upon his command. When he was certain she was at the edge, he increased the friction against her clit and growled in her ear, "Let go, Livvie. Come for me." He watched her come undone, her face twisted with pleasure, her body involuntarily spasming and shuttering around him, crying out his name as he milked the last of her orgasm from her body. Her beauty in that moment was stunning. She was the love of his life and, no matter the circumstance, he would never grow tired of pleasing her.

Easing her down from her high, he lifted her hips, creating the perfect angle for him. Knowing what was coming, she reached her arms in front of her, bracing herself against the headboard. He started off slowly, thrusting gently into her. When he knew she was ready, he began pounding relentlessly into her, surprised when she matched his movements, her pleasure building with his. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, but wanted her to fall with him. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her toward him, careful to counterbalance the shock of pain with the pleasure created when he was buried deeply inside her. Bringing his lips to hers once more, he wrapped his arms around her, using one hand to fondle her breast while his other hand massaged her clit.

Unable to ignore the pressure building inside him, he broke their kiss and buried his face in her shoulders, grunting softly as he climaxed, bringing her with him. Fully spent, he pulled her tightly into his embrace and collapsed against her tiny frame. When he recovered from his orgasm, he quickly rolled off of her, worried that he was crushing her with his weight. Olivia immediately rolled to him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arm and leg around his torso. She softly kissed his chest, nuzzling her cheek against his chest hair.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me Liv, but you _do_ have to talk to me."

"Tomorrow," she mumbled sleepily against his chest.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, kissing her on the top of her head and embracing her tightly, allowing sleep to overcome them both.

The next morning Olivia was awakened by the feeling of Fitz's body moving under her. Not ready to face the day, she pretended to be asleep while he eased out of the bed, amused by his attempts not to wake her. She remained still in bed listening to him rustle around in the closet trying to get what he needed to start his day. She fought the urge to smile as he crept out of their shared bedroom, ever the perfect gentleman, opting to shower in the guest room rather than risk waking her.

When she was assured that he was gone, she rolled onto her back, groaning loudly as she stared at the ceiling. She'd been dreading this day since she finally worked up the courage to invite Fitz away for a long weekend. She knew her instincts were correct and if they were going to move forward, they needed time away from the distractions of their normal lives to start working through some of their issues. She needed to tell him about the abortion and she wanted to know about his suicide attempt. They also needed to figure out if they could manage a personal and professional relationship and decide what to do about Jake and Grace.

He'd been patient thus far, but she could tell he was growing frustrated by her lack of communication and her actions last night certainly didn't help. He was giving and supportive during their lovemaking, but he couldn't completely hide his confusion and alarm when the insecurities she had been battling for weeks broke through. She was mortified when she broke down in tears, hating to be that vulnerable, especially during sex, with anyone, even him. If nothing else, she knew her actions confirmed for him that she was holding something back and he would be more dogged in his attempts to extract that information from her. Although he'd assured her repeatedly that they could work through anything, she rationalized that he was allowing love to guide his words and, when faced with the truth, was likely to be far less forgiving when he was ruled by feelings of anger, pain, and betrayal.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of bed. She couldn't avoid him all day. She wasn't known to be a late sleeper and he would come looking for her eventually. She trudged into the en-suite to start her morning routine. Every motion she took was exaggerated and deliberate, all serving one goal, delaying facing Fitz for as long as possible. In the shower, she stood under the spray for five minutes, allowing the scalding water to wash over her and ease her tense muscles. She shaved each area three times, washed her entire body twice, and shampooed her hair three times before conditioning. Thirty minutes later, she couldn't think of anything else to wash so turned off the water and slowly dried every inch of her body before soothingly massaging lotion into her skin.

When Olivia wiped the condensation from the mirror, something about her reflection caught her eye causing her gaze to linger longer than usual. She took in her appearance noting that very little of the public mask she wore, the always professional, calm, and controlled Olivia Pope, was present. The person staring back at her was naked and exposed, the version of herself that she guarded fiercely and hadn't presented to the world since her thought mother died. Yet, something about her appearance in that moment felt right. This was the person she needed to be today, the person she needed to share with Fitz, the person that needed to be reassured of his love. She couldn't be honest and vulnerable with him if she was hidden behind her Olivia Pope mask, the temptation to protect herself, to control the moment would be too great. If she was going to do this, she had to be her truest self and this was the person staring back at her in the mirror.

She cleared the rest of the mirror and slowly began dismantling her usual appearance. Instead of straightening her hair, she pulled her natural curls into a messy bun on top of her head. She left her face make-up free and removed her diamond studs. She went into the closet and selected a pair of yoga pants and a fitted t-shirt, allowing an ironic laugh at how just yesterday she swore he would never see her like this. Leaving her feet bare, she reviewed her appearance in the mirror and two things immediately jumped out at her. The first was her perfectly manicured hands and feet. Her preference would be to remove the polish, but she was unprepared to do so and didn't want to trouble the staff to make a drug store run.

Assured that her neutral polish wasn't too much of a distraction, she moved on to the second thing, Fitz's great grandmother's ring. Slowly, she removed the ring from her index finger and balanced it in her palm. After today, it was possible Fitz would never want to see her again and, if that was the case, she couldn't keep the ring. The ring belonged in the Grant family and, if today went as she suspected it would, she would be exiled from Fitz's life, much like Mellie, only worse. Mellie would always be Mrs. Grant, but Olivia had given away that right when Fitz negotiated his divorce. She also had two beautiful children as proof of the life she and Fitz once shared. The children would always keep them tethered to each other, even though their marriage recently ended and any intimacy between them died at least a decade before. This ring was the only thing that tethered her to Fitz. She'd worn the ring almost every day for the last seven years as a symbol of her ongoing love and devotion and to him. Still, she couldn't imagine wearing it if they were no longer together and she couldn't stomach the thought of it forever enshrined in a jewelry box when it could symbolize as much to either Karen or Teddy as it did for her and Fitz. Convinced that Fitz would never ask her to return the ring or accept it if she offered, she fingered it lovingly, flashing back to the moment when he gave her the ring in Vermont, before slipping it into the breast pocket of his navy pinstriped Brooks Brother suit. Either he or a member of the White House staff would find it later and make sure that it was kept in a safe place.

Finally ready to face Fitz, Olivia took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and set out to find him. After checking his office and not finding him, Olivia moved to the great room, surprised to see Fitz sitting on the couch reading a newspaper.

"Anything going on in the world I should be worried about?" she asked, interrupting the quiet. Fitz looked up from his paper and Olivia's appearance literally took his breath away. She stood before him completely stripped down, without any of the clothes, make-up, or accessories that defined her unique style, but he couldn't remember her ever being more beautiful. This was the real Olivia Pope.

"Damn," he offered when he collected himself and could finally speak.

"What?" she asked, feeling incredibly insecure standing before him in her natural state.

"Sometimes I forget exactly how beautiful you are," he said as he walked to her. When he reached her, he slowly pulled her into his embrace, chuckling when she was finally secure in his arms.

"What?"

"I also forgot how short you are without your heels and how young you look when you wear your hair curly," he said, playing with a few loose strands.

"We need to talk."

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, bending over to nibble on her ear.

"Seriously Fitz," she said sternly, pulling away from him slightly. "We need to talk."

"Let's talk later. Now, I want to enjoy my first experience of you in yoga pants." Fitz lifted her into his arms, palming her butt, slowly massaging her tense muscles.

"Fitz, no," she said weakly.

Driven by his need to possess her, he rushed them backwards and slammed her against the wall, grinding his erection roughly against her core. He pinned her arms above her head and plundered her mouth with his tongue. Olivia couldn't hold in the guttural moan that escaped her lips. Suddenly, Fitz was everywhere all at once. His hands, lips, and tongue gripping, kissing, and licking everything they touched. This man was going to be the death of her. Her mind was screaming no, but her body was consumed by the need to be connected with him. She knew they shouldn't be doing this. They were here to talk. There were things he needed to know before they went too far to stop. She couldn't deprive him of his choice, not again. He needed to know everything and she needed to know that, in spite of everything, he still wanted her, the real her. She was snapped back to reality when she felt a cool breeze across her abdomen as Fitz moved to take off her shirt.

"Fitz, stop," she said more firmly, pushing away from him.

Fitz was frozen in place by the alarm in her voice. He gently lowered her to the ground and took three steps backward.

"I'm sorry. I got carried away. I would never…I'm not my father. You're safe with me."

Olivia closed the gap between them and gently caressed his cheek with her hand. "I know that. I wasn't scared, I just needed you to stop. We need to talk and I can't think when you're that close to me."

Fitz flashed her a smug smile. "You want to talk. Let's talk."

"Over here," she said, gesturing toward the couches with her head.

Fitz followed Olivia to the sitting area, growing more and more concerned with each step. She waited for him to be seated before heading to the couch opposite from him. She went to be seated before thinking better of it and remained standing. Unconsciously, Olivia folded her arms across her chest and began pacing in circles.

"What's wrong?"

"Hunh?"

"You're closed off and pacing in circles, Liv. Something's wrong. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it."

"You can't fix this."

"Then we'll get through it. Just say it, Liv, and we'll get through it together."

"You can't promise that. Not before you've heard what I have to say."

"I can. Trust me. Talk to me."

"Fitz…," she whispered, tears beginning to form in her eyes, begging him to stop. She knew she was about to rip his heart out and couldn't bear him being so nice to her.

"Just say it," he pressed.

Olivia turned her back to Fitz and hugged herself tighter, willing herself to be brave. She asked him here specifically to have this conversation. She just needed to trust him, to tell him the truth and let him decide what came next. She walked further away from him, anticipating his rejection, creating distance between them before he could.

Fitz could feel Olivia's pain and anguish and yearned to comfort her, but knew better. Olivia would come to him when she was ready and crowding her was the opposite of what she needed in this moment. So, instead, he remained silent and still, trying to create a safe space for her to proceed.

After what felt like an hour, Olivia began to speak. "That night," she started and stopped, her voice breaking with emotion as the tears began to fall freely. Fitz remained quiet, fighting the urge to fill the silence.

"That night, the night of the cabinet dinner, I missed the dinner..."

Fitz was torn about what to do. Olivia was clearly suffering and he knew he had to power to end it. All he had to do was forgive her. Whatever it was, all he had to do was forgive her and they could move on, together. They'd come so far in only a few short weeks and he knew they were on the verge of more. She wouldn't have invited him here, for a long weekend, to turn him down. She was going to be his partner, his Chief of Staff, and he was willing to do anything, say anything, and forgive anything to have her back in his life.

On the other hand, he wanted to know what happened to them that night. If he gave her a pass now, he would never know the truth and, whatever that truth was, the very idea of letting it go was threatening to break her. She was the formidable Olivia Pope. She'd survived being kidnapped, tortured, and sold. Yet, here she was now, standing in front of him trembling, crying, and unable to form a complete sentence. The choice was clear, he could let her tell him and risk breaking her now or he could put an end to her suffering and risk that secret killing their relationship later. With that thought, the answer become obvious. He would remain silent and let her proceed. The truth wouldn't break her, he wouldn't allow it. They would get through this and come out stronger on the other side.

Fitz froze when the word abortion in her voice penetrated his consciousness. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself to the situation. He had been distracted by his thoughts and didn't realize she was once again speaking. He must have misunderstood her. It couldn't be true, not his Livvie, she wouldn't do something like that to him, she wouldn't take from him the one thing she knew he wanted more than anything.

"...I missed the dinner because I had an abortion."

It was as if that utterance broke a damn. Suddenly, the words were tumbling out of her mouth so fast she forgot to breathe. She had to get it out, had to get it all out.

"It was too soon. We didn't have enough time. We weren't ready. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I know what family means to you and I couldn't ask you to make that decision. It wasn't a decision really, there was no other choice. I had to do what was right, for us. Afterwards, I tried to tell you, but you were so angry. That night, you were so angry. You asked me where I was and I tried to tell you, but you screamed at me not to lie to you before I could say anything. I thought you knew. I thought the secret service agents told you were I was, but they didn't. That night, afterwards, I just wanted to feel something, anything but you were there and you were angry. That night, I was numb, but you couldn't see that. So we fought and it was ugly, it was brutal. I couldn't tell you the truth then, not after the words we exchanged. But still, I tried, after the fight I tried, but the words wouldn't come. And then, before I could process what was happening, I felt you letting me go. Suddenly, you weren't angry anymore. You were resigned. You gave me an exit, an excuse, a reason to leave. I was angry, frustrated, and scared, so I took it. I did what was easy, I packed my bags and left."

Finally, it was all out, her truth, her words still hanging in the air between them. Olivia collapsed on the floor. Her body wracked with sobs. After a few minutes, she realized that Fitz hadn't moved, he hadn't said a word. She lifted her eyes and saw that he was still seated on the couch, frozen in place, his face a mask, completely hiding his emotions. She moved toward him, but he recoiled from her, moving slowly as his mind struggled to process all that she had said. She stopped moving and watched as he rose from the couch and walked behind it, using it as a physical barrier between the two of them. She looked at him and saw the mask gradually slipping away. His eyes were filling with tears, his devastation written all over his face, his pain undeniable. She fought the urge to go to him, to hold him while he grieved his loss. She knew she couldn't be the one to comfort him, not when she was also the source of his pain.

"Fitz, say something. Please," she pleaded with him.

When he could finally speak, he asked, "How could you be so selfish?"

Olivia was shocked by the cruelty in his tone. "Selfish? That's what you think this was? Me being selfish? Going through with it was one of the hardest thing I ever done," she said, tears streaming down her face. "You weren't there. You didn't have to lie on that table in some sterile exam room, while a stranger removed your future from your body," she countered, the volume of her voice escalating with every word.

Fitz's pain was etched across his face as he imagined Olivia in that room, on that table, all alone. His heart broke for her, it broke for him, and it broke for their child that he would never get to meet. He replayed her words over and over again in his head, growing angrier each time at the cool detachment she used when describing that night.

"It?" he questioned. "You had an abortion, Olivia. You didn't lose your future. You're still here. You killed our child. She's the one that didn't get a future. She didn't get a future because you made that decision for her, made that decision for me."

The force of Fitz's words slammed into her like a wrecking ball, crashing through the brick wall she'd built around that night. She'd worked hard to disassociate from the events of that night. She never allowed herself to imagine what could have been, never allowed herself to think how things could have been if their circumstances were different. Now, she struggled to breathe as images of Fitz and their child invaded her conscience.

"I did it for you, for us," she explained. "I had to make that decision alone, for us, because I knew you couldn't make it. I had to protect your presidency, protect your legacy," she spat. "Your presidency couldn't withstand another round of media and political scrutiny. We worked too hard to get and keep you here. You should be remembered for your accomplishments, not your personal life."

"Bullshit, Olivia. You made that decision for yourself. You didn't even think about me, about what I would want. You didn't want to be tied down, caged as you like to describe it. You didn't want to marry me. You didn't want to be First Lady. You don't know how to be part of a family, part of a team, so you aborted," he yelled, the last word catching in his throat as the reality of the magnitude of his loss began to wash over him.

"It's my body. It was my choice," she screamed.

"But it was my baby," he roared, charging toward her. Olivia flinched, her small body drawing into itself. Fitz froze in place. He was used to an angry Olivia charging right back at him, not retreating. Now he understood why she stood before him stripped down, a gladiator without her armor. She wasn't here to fight. She needed him to see her and needed to know what he would do when she was finally bare, fully exposed. Fitz turned his back to her, unable to absorb her guilt on top of his own pain and grief. He took a couple of steps toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't be here, not with you," he responded coldly, refusing to turn around and allow her to see the tears falling from his eyes.

Olivia felt her heart breaking and the pain was crushing her. Facing his pain, a pain she'd caused, was harder than she imagined. She didn't blame him for leaving, she knew what family, especially a family with her, meant to him. Still, how many times had he assured her that she could tell him everything, that he could forgive her for anything, and that his love for her was unconditional? She needed that to be true now. She couldn't lose him, not when she'd finally allowed him to see her.

"Please," she whispered her voice barely intelligible through her sobs. "Don't leave me," she begged.

He turned to face her. "I'm not leaving you, but I can't be here right now. I need some space, some time. You've had months by yourself to process this. I just need some time." Without waiting for her response, he turned again and exited their cabin running, running away from her, away from the pain of a loss he didn't know he'd suffered.

As Fitz sprinted from the house he heard the stampede of agents rushing to catch up with him. He knew he should stop, should explain to them what happened and tell them that he was okay, but he couldn't. He needed to put as much distance between him and that cabin, between him and her, as possible. After traveling about 100 yards Fitz stopped and doubled over panting, his muscles burning and his lungs desperate for air. Daniel was the first agent to approach him.

"Sir?"

"I'm fine Daniel. Really, I'm fine."

"I know sir, but you standing here exposed is making everyone uncomfortable."

"It's Camp David for fuck's sake. Who is going to shoot me here? Who even knows I'm here? The only threat to me right now is in that cabin," Fitz responded angrily.

"I understand you don't want to go back there, but we can't let you stay here. You have to keep moving."

"Fine, let's move," he huffed, walking off without explanation as the agents fell into formation around him. He wandered around the grounds aimlessly for 30 minutes, ignoring his agents' discomfort. Without knowing exactly how it happened, Fitz found himself in front of the cabin Olivia used during her previous visits to Camp David. He stopped walking and turned to Daniel, asking, "After you clear this cabin, will you give me some privacy? I just need to think and I can't do that with agents hovering around me."

Daniel paused and looked at him, cautiously appraising his mental state. He'd heard Fitz and Olivia fighting and, while he was unable to hear all of what they said, he did observe the extreme nature of both of their emotional states. They were known to be an explosive couple, loving and fighting with equal passion, but something was very different about this round of fighting.

Fitz lowered his voice so that only Daniel could hear him, "I know you know about before, a couple of years ago. That's not what this is. I'm not going to hurt myself. I promised her I wouldn't leave her and I'm not. I just need to be alone so I can think."

Daniel nodded silently before walking away from him to give instructions to the remaining agents. After a couple of minutes, the agents exited the cabin and Daniel nodded to Fitz, giving him permission to enter. Fitz walked through the entrance, quietly closing the cabin door behind him before sinking to the floor and weeping openly.

Olivia, his Livvie, was pregnant. She was pregnant and she didn't tell him. She didn't allow him the opportunity start a family with her nor was he allowed to support her after her decision was made. He quickly did the math in his head. It has been eight months since their break-up. Instead of being here, fighting at Camp David, they should be at home taking care of their newborn daughter. They should be exhausted and irritable, but deliriously happy as their love for each other and their daughter expanded beyond anything either could imagine.

He closed his eyes and visions of what could have been danced before him. He saw Olivia's abdomen swollen with his child, her petite frame changing slowly before him. He imagined late night kitchen runs as he and the White House staff worked together to satisfy her wild cravings. He fantasized about the creative quickies they had on every surface in the White House when her pregnancy hormones turned her into a horny teenage boy. He pictured their arguments as they tried to agree on a name and nursery decorations, knowing that in the end he would give her the world in exchange for the gift she was giving him. He envisioned introducing the world to the new love of his life, a beautiful baby girl that looked just like her mother.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed open and he is overcome with an anger and rage unlike anything he's ever felt before. None of the above happened because Olivia robbed him of that opportunity when she decided a baby didn't fit into her life plan. Once again, she acted unilaterally, making decisions she claimed was in his best interest without consulting him. Had she not learned anything from Defiance or releasing her father from prison? Maybe she didn't feel she needed to change because she was Olivia fucking Pope and knew he would always take her back. Would he always take her back, always find a way to forgive? Were his declarations of unconditional love irrational, a free pass for her to do whatever the hell she chose without fear of consequences?

Then he pictured his Livvie alone during and after the procedure, her secret service detail the only familiar faces, and the feelings of anger were replaced with immense sadness. Didn't she know he would have supported her in her decision? She was correct, it is her body and that made it her decision, a decision he would have hated, but found a way to accept. Yes, he was the Republican president and that would have complicated things, but he would have been there beside her in that moment and he would have taken care of her afterwards. That's what you do when you love someone, you show up when they need you, even if being there hurts. How many times had she gladiated in pain for him, quietly pulling the heartstrings of the American people with images of Fitz as the devoted husband and family man?

Family, a real family, not the pretend one he had with Mellie, that's what he wanted with Olivia, but did she even want kids. He always believed that the dream was Vermont, jam, and smushy babies, but thinking back on it, he could only recall one time when she included babies as part of her Vermont dream. Children were always part of his future with Olivia, but perhaps she felt differently. He thought back to the times he had witnessed Olivia around Mellie when she was pregnant or when Fitz, Mellie, and the kids were together. He always interpreted the look on her face as jealousy, his guilt for putting her in that position preventing him from asking her about it. Maybe it wasn't jealousy at all, but instead veiled contempt. He could understand why Olivia would question her maternal instinct, she certainly didn't have any good parenting role models. Her mother, the parent she thought was loving and supportive, turned out to be a terrorist, her devotion to family an elaborate ruse to extract national security information from her husband. And her father, he couldn't even think about the man responsible for the death of his son. Did that explain it? Was Olivia afraid that her father would be a threat to their child? Was her decision the ultimate sacrifice rather a selfish act? Was the truth somewhere in between?

As the spectrum of emotions cascaded over him, he struggled to understand why Olivia would make the decision to have an abortion, alone, rather than come to him and let them face whatever was next together. Why did she feel the abortion was her only option and why would she go through with the procedure by herself? He wracked his brain, searching for the thing that he did, the words that he'd expressed that would lead her to that decision. Was he an unsupportive partner? Had he been unclear about his commitment to her and their future, a future that included children? Had he pushed her too hard, ignored the warning signals? What was it about him, about their relationship that led her to that place, to that decision?

As he searched for answers, a realization came to him. He didn't have any of the answers because he hadn't asked her any of the questions nor had he allowed her to explain. After weeks of pushing her to talk to him, of promising to be supportive and understanding, he'd done just the opposite. He yelled at her, shut down on her, and left her, knowing all of those things only gave validation to her insecurities. He'd asked her to trust him, to open up to him and she had. She stood before him, pushing through her guilt, fear, and insecurity and he responded by calling her names and accusing her of terrible things. He was entitled to his anger, entitled to his own emotional reaction to his loss, but not at her expense. This wasn't the person he wanted to be. He wanted to be the man he promised her he was, but he didn't know how to reconcile her needs with his. He needed to find a way to express his hurt, anger, and disappointment without insulting, belittling or minimizing her. He needed to find a way to forgive her and move them past this without giving her a clean slate to do this, or some other terrible thing, again. He knew he loved her, but right now he couldn't imagine being in the same room with her much less forgiving her. He needed a plan, but nothing made sense except that he had to return to Olivia, and soon. The longer her left her alone, the sturdier her walls would grow, making an already difficult conversation impossible.

After hours of pacing, thinking, ranting, and sobbing, he was finally ready to face Olivia, but there was just one thing he needed to do first. He opened the cabin door and scanned the perimeter for Daniel, locking eyes with him when he found him. Daniel slowly approached the cabin door.

"Sir?"

"Daniel, I need my phone."

"Excuse me sir?"

"My cellphone, I left in the main cabin with Olivia. I need to make a call."

"Of course sir," Daniel replied, gesturing to Fitz to return inside, before speaking into his cuff mic, asking one of the agents assigned to the main cabin to bring Fitz's phone. Five minutes later Fitz heard a knock at the cabin door. He opened the door to find Daniel standing there with his cellphone in hand.

"Thanks, Daniel. How is she?"

"Sir?"

"Don't _sir_ me," Fitz mocked with a weary smile. "I know you had the agent check on her before bringing the phone. How is she?"

Daniel returned a shy smile. "She's calm sir. She was extremely anxious and emotional when you left, but has calmed down and appears to be waiting for you to return."

"Does she know where I am?"

"No, sir. The agents haven't spoken with her and she hasn't approached them."

"Thanks, Daniel. I'll be ready to return to the main cabin in an hour. Please send a car," Fitz replied before returning to the cabin.

Once securely inside, he settled on the couch and pressed the home button, waking up his phone. He was surprised to see that he had five missed calls. One from Cyrus, one from Abby, and three from Grace. He wondered why Grace called three times. Was the universe trying to send him a message? Was she the one he was supposed to move forward with? His relationship with Grace was definitely easier than any aspect of his relationship with Olivia. Was easy what he wanted? Could he be satisfied with easy? He was reminded of the saying anything worth having is worth fighting for. Was loving and being loved by Olivia worth this and all the future struggles they were certain to endure or was he too old and too tired to keep fighting? He pushed these thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand, returning the calls to Cyrus and Abby before calling Charlotte.

Charlotte answered after two rings. "Good evening, Mr. President."

"Hello, Charlotte. Sorry to bother you at home."

"Nonsense, Mr. President," she interrupted. "If you're working, I'm working."

"That's actually why I'm calling. I need you to clear a couple of more days on my calendar. Olivia and I are going to need for time. We won't be ready to leave tomorrow."

"I understand, sir, but I don't think I can clear your schedule completely. How many days will you need?"

"I don't know. Two, maybe three."

"Sir," she replied hesitantly, not wanting to disappoint her boss.

"Just move what you can and what can't be moved, I'll handle from the office here. If I absolutely need to return to the White House, send Marine One, but I need to return to Camp David as quickly as possible."

"I'll take care of it sir."

"Thank you, Charlotte. I'll also need you to call Quinn and clear Olivia's schedule as well. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Just as Fitz was wrapping up his call with Charlotte, there was a knock at the door indicating that the car had arrived and was ready to transport him back to the main cabin. Fitz took one last look around the cabin, reliving the memories that he and Olivia shared there. He was making the right decision, he was certain of it. He exited the cabin exhausted, but determined to take on what was sure to be one of the most challenging conversations of his life.

When Fitz returned to their cabin, he found Olivia curled in a ball on the couch, a blanket thrown over her legs, holding a glass of scotch. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks tearstained from hours of crying. He so badly wanted to go to her and comfort her, but his anger, although dissipated, made him selfish and prevented him from approaching her. Instead he stood still, silently staring at her. He flinched when he saw her small body shudder and fold under the weight of his gaze.

"I didn't think you were coming back," she explained, her intoxication evident from her glassy eyes and slurred speech.

"I told you I wouldn't leave. I need a shower," he explained as he walked past her. "Have the staff make you some food and coffee. I need you sober if we are going to talk."

"You're ready to talk?" she asked, the surprise unmistakable in her drunken voice.

"Sober up, Livvie, then we'll talk," he stated as he walked out of the room.

 **A/N: I want to thank everyone for their encouraging comments. This story started out as a smutty one-shot because I didn't think I had much else to offer, but your comments pushed me to dig a little deeper. So, thank you!**

 **Also, most of this chapter was written before I posted Chapter 4 so I was able to post Chapter 5 quickly. I don't have any idea what's going to happen in Chapter 6 so, for those who are still with me, the turnaround won't be as quick. Sorry!**

 **Finally, I know abortion is one of those hot-button, divisive issues, but it's the story that Shonda gave us. I tried to be true to who I think Fitz and Olivia are, but understand that you may not see them as I do. Ultimately, in my story (and hopefully on the show) the two of them will have to decide if they want to do the work to be together. They can't make that decision without standing in their truths. The abortion is part of Olivia's truth and Fitz's reaction part of his. I'm curious to see where both this story and the show will take them.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A little over an hour later, Olivia heard Fitz reenter the great room behind her, but didn't turn to face him. He slowly walked around the couch where she was seated and approached the couch facing her. Unable to make eye contact with him, she appraised his appearance from his feet up. He was barefoot, dressed simply in sweatpants riding low on his hips and a slim fit V-neck t-shirt. Olivia unconsciously licked her lips as the material of Fitz's sweatpants stretched over his bulge.

"I see someone is feeling better," he teased when he noticed Olivia's focus on his midsection. Fitz's words snapped Olivia's focus back to the present. Finally meeting his eyes, she smiled weakly, and offered, "Yes, the food and the coffee helped."

"Coffee? You don't drink coffee."

"Tonight, I drink coffee. Well, probably more like coffee flavored cream and sugar, but you said you were ready to talk and I wanted to be fully present, or at least as present as possible, for you."

He positioned himself on the opposing couch so that he was directly facing her. Slowly, he took her in, his eyes serious and probing, slowly lingering over every inch of her being, memorizing her appearance as if this would be the last time he saw her. Discomforted by the intimacy of his gaze, Olivia began to fidget, clasping and unclasping her hands, her right thumb lightly stroking her left index finger. Her movements drew his attention to her hands and he frowned deeply when he noticed her index finger was bare. In all the time they were together, and even when they were apart, she only removed the ring once, during and after her kidnapping. Fitz shook his head briskly trying to erase the memory of Olivia hurling the ring at him in anger, while she looked on, perplexed by his actions. He closed his eyes and searched his mind for images of her from earlier in day. Was she wearing the ring this morning or did she remove it after he left? Despite his best attempts, he was unable to recall an image of her finger from earlier in the day.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and asked, "Where is your ring?"

"What?" Olivia asked, alarmed by his sudden action and unexpected question.

"Your ring, my great grandmother's ring, where is it?"

"The ring?" she paused, struggling process his sudden question. "The ring is in the breast pocket of your favorite suit."

Fitz leapt off the couch and headed to the bedroom. Olivia was overcome by a sudden wave of nausea. Perhaps she underestimated Fitz's response. She was sure that he would never ask her to return the ring or accept it if she offered, but now he seemed eager to reclaim the symbol of their love. She fought against a fresh round of tears as she tried to prepare herself for what was to come. Fitz could be cruel when he was hurt or betrayed and, so far, his reaction to her truth was much as she expected it would be. Taking back the ring was a new level a cruelty that she didn't think he was capable of inflicting on her.

Fitz returned to the room as suddenly as he departed, only this time his stride was confident and full of purpose. Instead of sitting on the couch opposing Olivia, he sat next to her. Uncertain where things were headed, Olivia turned to face him, willing herself not to vomit, struggling to keep her face void of emotion. If this was the end, if she had, in fact, pushed him too far, she was determined to handle herself with composure and grace. She refused to reveal herself as the puddle of distraught emotion she felt inside. Without speaking, Fitz reached for Olivia's left hand. She instinctively withdrew from him, unable to follow his lead.

"Give me your hand Livvie," he softly commanded. She instantly relaxed when she registered his use of the nickname only he dared to use. She smiled briefly, unable to contain her joy at still being his Livvie, but remained still.

"Liv, give me your hand," he said more forcefully. This time she didn't hesitate as she placed her left hand on his right thigh. Gently, he lifted her hand and raised it to his lips, caressing his jawline with her index finger before giving it a soft kiss. He opened his other hand and presented the ring. "Did you take it off this morning?" Olivia's only response a simple nod of her head. "Why?"

Olivia paused to carefully parse her thoughts before responding. "It just felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to be natural, bare, removed from trappings associated with the me I project to the world."

"This included your ring?"

"It felt right, yes."

"Do you remember what I said when I gave it to you?"

"Don't think of it as a ring."

"Yes," he said smiling, "but that's not the part I was thinking about. I remember telling you that if you could wear the ring I would know, even if you hated me that we'll be okay. I would know that you're out there. Do you remember what you said?"

"I told you that I could never hate you," she whispered.

"And I could never hate you, Livvie, not even in this moment. Are you here, in this with me? Will we be okay?"

"Yes."

"Then this," he paused to hold up the ring, "belongs here," he said as he returned the ring to its rightful place upon her index finger. "My love isn't something you can remove. Even when you're completely bare, my love surrounds you unbroken, the way this ring surrounds your finger."

Unable to speak, Olivia leaned forward until her lips were met by Fitz's and the shared a sweet, but restrained kiss. Olivia allowed the kiss to linger a bit before pulling away.

"I'm sure you have questions. Where do you want to start?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Why, what? Why did I have the abortion? Why didn't I tell you I was pregnant? Why am I telling you now?"

"All of the above, but let's start with the abortion."

"I was your not so secret mistress, then your public mistress, then your very public girlfriend. I couldn't be your public baby mama and I wasn't ready to be your wife. It was too soon. We needed more time. I...needed more time. I wasn't ready to have my whole life defined by my relationship with you. I worked too hard to become Olivia Pope to give that up. Think about what I sacrificed when I defined myself as Fitzgerald Grant's mistress."

"No one asked you to do that."

" _Really_? You didn't expect me to give up everything that was important to me, my job, my freedom, and my independence to come live with you, to support you, in the White House. I couldn't allow myself to lose what little of me was left to become Fitzgerald Grant's wife and mother of his child because we were reckless and careless?"

"Were we...reckless and careless? I thought you were on birth control."

"I was, I am, on birth control, but no birth control is 100 percent. I guess we were the unlucky 9 percent."

"Or the lucky 9 percent," he smiled weakly.

"Do you really think our unplanned pregnancy was lucky?"

"So it's our unplanned pregnancy now? I thought it was your body, your choice. I didn't get a vote."

"Fitz..."

"I'm sorry. That was petty and small."

"You don't have to apologize, not to me, not today. I understand, you're still processing, grieving your loss."

"Is it only my loss?"

"Yes."

"Who are you right now?" he asked, standing up and walking away to put some distance between them, staring out the window to avoid looking at her.

"The same person I've always been. You just see me differently because your blinders are off."

He snapped his body around to face her, angry once again. "Don't make this about me. I'm not some naive love-struck fool. We love each other. We were living together, in a committed relationship, starting to live the life we always dreamed about. A dream that's always included children. We got a glimpse of that future and then it was taken away from us. It's not unreasonable for me to expect you to feel some sense of loss."

Olivia remained seated on the couch. "You're hurt and angry and I'm not hiding from you like usual, contorting myself into something less than in hopes I will be acceptable to you. That allows you to see new parts of me. Just because you haven't seen this part of me before or you don't like this version of me, doesn't make it any less me. I'm not grieving a loss, because I didn't lose anything. I know it's hard to hear, but I didn't want a baby, so I don't have a baby."

"Do you want children, in the future, when I am no longer president and our lives are our own?"

"Honestly," she responded, trying to fill the space, unsure how to answer the question.

"Preferably," he offered with his trademark crooked smile.

Olivia chuckled, the melodic tone helping to ease some of the tension in the room, as she rose from the couch, and began slowly pacing in circles opposite Fitz. "I don't know if I want kids," she said softly. "You're right, the fantasy version of our lives together always included babies, two babies I think. But, I wasn't pregnant in our fantasy Vermont world. The reality was, the ink had barely dried on your divorce papers and here I was, the president's mistress-turned-girlfriend, pregnant. I didn't know how to be a mother, how to protect a child born into that environment. Just like I have no clue how to make jam."

"I've never known you to back down from a challenge because you didn't know what to do."

"It wasn't just that I didn't know what to do. I wasn't willing to make the necessary sacrifices and that made me question if I have the instincts needed to be a great mother. My team recovered a kidnapped baby once, a cute little squishy baby boy. The type of baby that makes most women turn into a babbling mess of hormones. Do you know what I did with the baby? I kept him in the middle of the conference table in a cardboard box. A fucking cardboard box. There was no rocking or cooing. Just a baby in a box, a thing, waiting for my client to retrieve. Does this sound like the type of woman you want to have kids with?"

"I've watched you with my kids. You're terrific with them. Karen respects and adores you, no small feat given the role the media and her mother ascribed to you in my divorce."

"Karen's a young woman," Olivia interrupted. "You and Mellie already raised her. She needed a friend, an adult that would listen objectively to her and I wasn't in a position to judge. I know I can be their friend, which may make me an acceptable stepmother to both Karen and Teddy. What I don't know is if I can be a mother. Does it change things, between us, if I can't?"

"Twenty-four hours ago the answer would have been no. All I've wanted since the day you stormed into my life questioning if I screw my wife and promising to eat, breathe, and live me was to spend the rest of my life with you, in any way that you would have me. Now that I know you were pregnant, even if only briefly, something has changed. I look at you and I can't help picturing you with a baby bump or sitting in a glider, nursing our daughter, and quietly singing lullabies. I didn't realize how badly I wanted a family with you until I knew about the pregnancy, but now I know and I'm not sure it's something that I can ignore."

"That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want the pregnancy or the abortion to change, ruin us. I didn't want you to look at me and see a woman that I'm not and may never be," Olivia said as she sank down on the couch. "What if I can't give you a family?" she asked timidly, afraid of what his response would be.

"I don't know. " Olivia's bottom lip began to quiver and once again tears threatened to fall. Fitz rushed by her side and wrapped her in a big embrace. "Don't cry," he hushed her softly, waiting for her to regain her composure. "I'm not leaving, not now, not ever."

"But," she interrupted, "how can that be true if you now know that you definitely want kids and I'm not sure?"

"Small correction, I know that I definitely want more kids, but I only want those kids if they are with you. Without you, nothing else matters."

"Don't say that," she said forcefully, abruptly pulling away from his embrace.

"Why not? It's true."

"It's not true. It can't be, not if we are going to be together. If we are going to try to be together, really together, I have to know that you'll be OK if it doesn't work."

"Liv, you're not making sense. How does knowing how I will respond to you leaving, again, help you stay?"

"I can't be your everything," she explained. "It's too much pressure for one person, too much pressure for me. I need to know that you will survive without me."

"Haven't I proven that to you already? You've given me ample opportunities to demonstrate what my life looks like without you. I was surviving just fine before your visit to the White House. I was focused and determined as president and learning how to be single again. If given the option, I will always choose a life with you, but these last nine months without you have taught me that I can be alone. Why is this so important to you?"

"You want me to be your Chief of Staff, to spend 18 hours a day working in the White House. How long before I'm spending the remaining 6 in your bed? How long before my entire existence is defined by you and the White House? Is that what you want?"

"I want you to _want_ to be in the Oval and in my bed."

"I do, but not if that means losing me. It can't always be about you."

"Are you saying you want to work with me and sleep with Jake?"

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Are you sure it was my baby?"

"How could you ask me that?" she angrily replied, folding her arms across her body as she stalked away from him.

"You agreed to talk, about everything. No more secrets, right?"

Olivia released a loud sigh before slowly nodding in approval.

"Are you sure it was my baby?"

"Yes. I was eight weeks pregnant and I'm sure it was your baby," she responded coldly.

"How can you be when you ran away with Jake in that timeframe?"

"I didn't _run_ away with Jake. I went to North Carolina for business. He followed me there to help."

"Did you ask him to come?"

"No."

"But you didn't turn him away, did you?"

"No," she responded meekly.

"How long were you in North Carolina?"

"Two days."

"So you spent the night? Together?"

"Yes and no, "she replied, growing tired of Fitz's jealousy fueled interrogation.

"What does that mean?"

"We spent the night, but we didn't sleep together."

"So, you stayed at a hotel, right? One room or two?"

"One."

"One? One bed or two?"

"Really, how many damn questions are you going to ask about that night? What do you really want to know? If I had sex with him? I didn't. That's how I can be sure that it was your baby. You were the only possible father. But, since you want all of the ugly details, it was one bed that we shared. We slept fully clothed on top of the covers. I was scared and sad, so I asked him to hold me, and he did, but that was it. It wasn't sexual or intimate, just comforting."

"Was he aroused?"

"What?" she spat angrily. "What does it matter if I told you we didn't have sex? You don't believe me?"

"It matters. I've seen the way you respond to his touch. Trust me, it matters."

"You've what? Did you put cameras in my apartment?" she shouted at him, tears threatening to fall.

"You first, was he aroused?"

"Yes. I only know because I brushed against him when I shifted positions. He was asleep, but it didn't matter. He was aroused but I wasn't," she said as she walked toward him. "I am in love with you. I chose you." She stopped in front of him and reached up, cradling his face in her hands, forcing him to make eye contact with her. "I didn't want to be, couldn't have been, with him or anyone else. I was scared, confused, and upset, but I still only wanted you. I needed a friend and he was there, but that's it. Nothing happened. I couldn't betray you like that." She paused, allowing her words to sink in and waited for his jealous anger to dissipate before continuing. "Now, how have you seen me with Jake?"

"There was a video, from the night you were hospitalized. Cyrus had it. He made me watch it from the first kiss through your climax. I tried to stop it. Tried to look away, but I couldn't. He wanted me to know that I wasn't special, that our love wasn't special."

"Fitz," she whispered softly, reaching for him. "We were in a terrible place. We were barely civil to each other. That night or any other night that I spent with him doesn't diminish our relationship. It doesn't change the fact that I love you, that I will always love you, and that you will always be special to me."

Fitz, turning away from her, said, "I know that, at least I think I do, but I just can't forget the look on your face as you climaxed. I thought that look was reserved for me, that I was the only man that touched you like that."

"You are," she interrupted, reaching for him. "You know that. No other man…"

"Please stop," he interrupted, gently pushing her away. "Don't finish that sentence. There's nothing you can say to erase what I saw. I thought I could handle your relationship with Jake, but I just…," he trailed off.

"Fitz…"

"Let's just stop," he offered, in a defeated tone. "Nothing good can come from continuing. I'm exhausted and I'm sure you're exhausted. Let's at least try to sleep and continue talking in the morning."

Olivia nodded her head in reply. She didn't want to end their night fighting about Jake, but she'd lost control of the conversation when Fitz started his inquiry about her trip to North Carolina. She wanted to say something, anything, but she was spent physically and emotionally. Instead, she quietly followed Fitz in the direction of the bedrooms.

As they approached the sleeping quarters, Olivia turned right, away from the master bedroom.

"Where are you going?"

"To one of the guest rooms. I asked the staff to move my things earlier today," she responded softly.

Fitz's face twisted into a mask of confusion. "Why did you do that?"

Olivia released a deep sigh before offering, "Because I wasn't sure when you would return and I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in there without you. Also, even if you did return tonight, I wasn't sure how you would feel and didn't think you would want us to share a bed. I thought it would be easier to have the staff move things in advance rather than have an awkward transition once you returned. We've already suffered through that once."

Fitz grimaced as he recalled the painful experience of watching the White House staff pack Olivia's belongings and move her out of the residence. "Liv, I told you earlier that as long as we are here together, this," he gestured toward the master bedroom, "is your room. I promised you I would return and I did. I don't want you sleeping in a separate room unless that's what you want. Is that what you want?"

"No, it's not what I want, but do you think either of us will benefit from a tense night of lying awake with our backs turned to each other?"

"It doesn't have to be like that. This time can be different. We can decide to change, be better people than we've been in the past. We're both still here, that's new, let's continue to be different," he said holding out his hand for Olivia to grab.

Olivia smiled weakly, grasping Fitz's hand, and allowed him to lead her to the master bedroom. Uncertain of what to do with her things in the other room, Olivia sat on the bed while Fitz disappeared into the closet to prepare for bed. Fitz had only been away for a minute when his phone started ringing.

"Fitz, your phone is ringing," she called into the closet.

"Will you answer it and tell them I'll be right with them? It's probably just Abby or Cyrus with an update. Both of them know I'm here with you so it won't be surprising to hear your voice."

Olivia quickly crossed to Fitz's side of the bedroom and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. She moved to answer the phone when the name that flashed across the screen halted her movements.

"Fitz, I can't answer your phone. It's not Abby or Cyrus."

"Of course you can answer it. Who is it, Mellie? Trust me, she's the last person to care that you're answering my phone. In fact, I think she prefers you to…," Fitz's voice trailed off as he realized why Olivia couldn't answer his phone. Grace was calling for the fourth time today. Why was she calling again? She understood the demands of the presidency and rarely called more than once a day, even if he didn't answer or return her call. What could be so important that she had tried to reach him four times? He was content to ignore her earlier, but her persistence was worrisome. Was she calling to check-up on him? Did she somehow find out that he was away with Olivia? Did he care if she had?

Fitz sheepishly walked out of the closet dressed in his pajama bottoms, carrying the matching top in his hand. Olivia looked at the shirt he was carrying and fought to hold back tears. He never wore a shirt while in bed with her. He claimed that wearing a shirt blocked the warmth radiating from her small body and that he never wanted anything between them ever again. Was he in need of a barrier between them tonight?

Fitz slowly and silently approached her, rubbing her arms before gently removing the phone from her hands and placing it on the nightstand. Olivia's face was full of emotion and he struggled to come up with something to say, something that would make Grace's interruption less threatening. He'd explained to her multiple times that being with Grace was for show, a political arrangement, but he never felt that she fully trusted his explanation and this wasn't the moment to try to convince her otherwise.

"Where does she think you are?" she asked in a biting tone, trying to hide her emotional reaction to his appearance.

"Don't do that," he spat frustrated. "You don't get to play the wounded mistress card. Not this time."

"Not this time?"

"Before, we were sneaking around because I was married and president or running for president. My decisions and actions made you, the woman I love, the only woman I'll ever love, my mistress. I hated that label for you, even when you publically embraced it, but I was too selfish to let you go and too big of a coward to make good on my promise to walk away from the presidency. Instead, I remained president and continued to push us forward, willfully ignoring the price you paid, the guilt and shame that you endured, for loving me. Now, I'm the first sitting president to get divorced and I did that for you, so you wouldn't have to be my mistress."

"Bullshit. You didn't do that for me," she challenged. "You did that for you. You divorced Mellie so you could move forward with the shotgun wedding Cyrus planned to keep me from testifying before Congress. You divorcing Mellie had nothing to do with me, it was all about protecting your precious presidency."

"But we didn't get married, did we? We didn't get married because you decided releasing your father was lesser than the evil of marrying me."

"First Jake, now my father, are there any other sins you want to punish me for tonight? Why don't you just rattle off your list of the multitude of ways that I've hurt or disappointed you so we can skip to the penance part of this weekend?"

"Is that why you think I'm with Grace? To punish you? I'm with Grace because you decided you didn't want to be with me." Each time he said Grace's name, Olivia felt a stabbing pain in her chest.

"You're with her because I decided I didn't want to be with you?" she interrupted, her anger an attempt to mask her jealousy. "Being with you wasn't an option, not after…"

"Not after what? The abortion? Of course it was an option. I know now and I'm here. Right? I'm devastated and angrier with you than I've ever been, but I'm still here, standing in our bedroom fighting to save us. If being together is not an option, it's not an option for you, because I'm here, right where I've always been, waiting for you to stop running."

"Does this look like running to you?" she countered defiantly.

"Where are your things Olivia? Aren't you all packed and ready run?"

"My things are down the hall, but I am standing still, right here in front of you, taking the worst that you have to give. I'm not running this time, I'm showing you all of me. Declaring every sin, revealing every fear, sharing all of my truths, showing you every wart and pimple. This, the woman standing before you, is who I really am, no masks, no filters, no pretending. But, if you can't love and accept the real me, instead of the fantasy you have of me, if we still can't make it work, I'm done. I'm exhausted."

"You're exhausted?" he shouted. "I'm exhausted. I've been chasing you for the last eight years, catching up to you only to have you slip through my fingers over and over again. Tell me you love me."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Tell me with me is where you want to be," he whispered back, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "Tell me you want me and I'll call Grace right now and end things with her. Better yet, I'll be the biggest asshole in the world and send her a break-up text so that nothing, not even the sound of her voice, can come between us in this moment."

"Fitz…you can't," she replied, her own tears now falling freely.

"That's what I thought," he responded, turning his back to her and walking away slowly. When her silence persisted, he laid the pajama shirt on the corner of the bed beside her.

"I brought that for you. The staff didn't leave any of your clothes in closet and I assumed you didn't want to sleep in your clothes or naked," he explained.

Olivia flushed with embarrassment. She jumped to the wrong conclusion and allowed her jealousy to provoke another round of fighting. She should have known that Fitz's anger, frustration, and sadness wouldn't erase his chivalry. She was so tired, tired of worrying, tired of crying, and tired of fighting with him. She couldn't think when she felt like this. She desperately needed for this day to end, but she couldn't disentangle from her emotions enough to unwind. Maybe sharing a room with Fitz was a bad idea. She needed space, some time alone to regroup and she didn't' know how to do that with Fitz standing ten feet away from her.

Instead, she pushed forward, turning her back to him as she slowly began undressing. Fitz stared at her as she moved.

"What?" she asked without turning around to face him.

"I look at you and you are so small, so fragile, and all I want to do is wrap you in my arms and protect you. But, I can't, I can't because I'm so angry, hurt and frustrated. I just don't know what to do?"

"What do you want to do? Do you want to leave? Do you want me to leave? Do you need time or space or…"

"Stop it! Just stop it!" he interrupted. "I know I don't want to leave and I don't want you to leave, but…"

"You're hurt and angry and you want to hurt me, punish me, for all of it," she finished.

He sighed loudly, slowly palming his face. "I don't want to hurt you, but I also don't want you to hurt me again and I don't know how to stop you from doing that. I don't know how to protect myself from you because I love you and that by definition makes me vulnerable to you."

"So, you're stuck."

"Exactly."

"And, being here with me isn't making it any easier."

"True, but I don't know being away from you would make it any better."

"What do you need?"

"I need to be able to trust you, to trust that you won't intentionally hurt me. I need to trust that we're in this together. I need to be able to trust that after this weekend there won't be any more secrets between us. I need to know that you'll talk to me before acting, even when, especially when, you think I won't support you. I need to know that you prioritize and consider me above everything else. This doesn't mean that I am always right or that we'll always do things my way, but I need to know that I was part of the equation and that my wants and feelings aren't just dismissed as irrelevant. I need you to think less and feel more."

"I can't give you that."

"I know," he said, sitting down on the bed defeated.

"Do you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his confusion evident by his facial expression.

"I can't give you that because nothing I say now, in this moment, can convince you that I'm changed. I have to prove it to you and I've done all that I can do tonight to show you that I'm trying.

"So what do we do now?"

"Now? Now, we try to sleep. We're both emotional and exhausted. We need a break from all the talking, jealousy, and fighting. We just need to be."

When they were both settled in bed, the weight of the emotional day overcame Olivia and she began to cry silently. Fitz felt her small body shaking and wanted to comfort her, but was frozen in place by uncertainty. He felt bad for her laying there crying, but he was unaccustomed to an emotional Olivia and wasn't practiced physically supporting her in these moments. He knew exactly what he would say if they were having one of their late night phone calls, but this, sharing her physical space while she wept, was different. Should he try to comfort her or did she need space?

As if she was reading his mind, Olivia quietly asked, "Will you hold me?"

"Come here," he responded, opening his body to her before surrounding her tiny frame with his much larger one. He snuggled in close behind her, deeply inhaling the scent of her shampoo before softly kissing the top of her head.

"Be careful," she warned through sniffles, trying to lighten the mood, "my boyfriend gets jealous if the man supporting me enjoys it too much."

"If I were your boyfriend I'd never let another man touch you."

Fitz felt Olivia's body go rigid in his arms and kicked himself for being so thoughtless. How could he invite Jake into their bed tonight of all nights? It was bad enough that his jealousy and insecurity allowed Jake to dominate their earlier conversation. How could he bring him up again? He long ago decided that the best way to deal with Olivia's relationship with Jake was to ignore it. When he and Olivia were together he devoted every ounce of his attention to being present with her in that moment. When they were apart, he worked hard not to imagine what she was doing or, better yet, what someone else was doing to her. He knew from experience that Olivia had a healthy sexual appetite and it was unlikely her appetites and desires were reserved only for him. It wasn't easy, but, through the years, he came to accept that loving Olivia meant tolerating her relationship with Jake.

They both lay there silently, desperately trying to ignore Jake's sudden presence in the room. Unable to bear the tension, Fitz broke down and asked the one question that had been plaguing him since they reunited. "Are you still sleeping with him?"

"Do you really want to have this conversation now? It's been a long day," she countered softly, not wanting to add to his pain.

"I do. Are you?"

"No, not since that night in Cyrus's office. I only see him when I visit my father." She felt Fitz's posture change and added, "He lives there, with my father. I don't visit often, but when I do, he's there."

"But, you were, before that night, sleeping with him?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"Fitz, please," she begged. "There is no way I can answer that question without adding to your pain. Don't make me hurt you, not tonight."

"I need to know."

"You don't, trust me, you don't. You'll never be able to unhear my words and it will become a thing between us. Just know that my relationship with Jake is over. Even if you and I can't make it work, I'm not going back to him. I want more, deserve more, than Jake can offer."

"Did you decide this tonight?"

"No, the decision was made the night we spent together in Cyrus's office."

"That night? It was hardly a life changing encounter. If I recall correctly, I fucked you on a desk that night." Fitz chuckled, amused by his own cleverness.

"Then you made love to me on the couch," she countered tenderly. "There was something so raw, so honest, about you, about us, in that moment that it made my next 'date' with Jake feel wrong."

"I thought you stopped sleeping with him after that night."

"I did, but it wasn't a conscious decision. I tried to go back to my life, back to Jake, as if nothing meaningful happened between us, but I couldn't do it. Going through the motions made me angry. Pretending with him felt false and empty, and I couldn't stop thinking about how different it felt with you. That's why I was so angry that when you didn't call or try to see me."

Fitz pulled her closer to him and swept her hair to the side, revealing her neck, before placing a series of small kisses along her jugular. "You thought I didn't want you? How could you think that?"

"I thought you moved on, with Grace. The two of you seemed so easy, so comfortable in public. I thought you finally found the woman you've been waiting for."

"I already found that woman. I found her eight years ago on the campaign trail in New Hampshire. Dating Grace is strictly to maintain my virile image."

"I didn't know that was in question," she teased.

"Abby and Cyrus convinced me the longer I remained single, the more likely it was that the American people would view me as a lonely old man, sulking around in the White House masturbating to photos of his ex-girlfriend."

"That's not true. Is it?" she asked shyly.

"Of course not." After hearing his response, Olivia exhaled deeply, releasing a breath neither realized she was holding. "I don't need the photo. I can recall a perfect image of you simply by closing my eyes."

"Is that what you were doing earlier, on the couch? Trying to recall my image?"

"Yes, I was trying to remember if you were wearing your ring this morning."

"How often do you update this image?

"Every time I see you. I learned years ago not to take your return for granted. Every time you walk away it could be the last time I see you for weeks, months, or years."

Olivia elbow him softly in his ribcage. "I never stayed away for more than a year." She suddenly flipped around in his arms, reaching up to gently caress and hold his face with both hands. "I love you. I want to be with you. I'm not leaving. But, being away from you has reminded me that I also love being Olivia Pope. I know I need to find a way for Olivia Pope to share a space with your Livvie and I'm willing to do so, but…"

"I think it's cute when you refer to yourself in the third person."

"I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about my brand. My name and image are everything to me. If I'm careless with either the consequences could be devastating."

"You know I'll always take care of you," he said sincerely.

She gently pecked him on his nose. "That's sweet, but I can take care of myself. I've been doing it just fine for years. Plus, it's not me I'm worried about. One way or another I'll be fine, but I have people depending on me and I can't let them down because I fell in love."

"How can I make this easier for you? What do you need from me?"

She paused for a long time before responding, "I know that I don't want a therapist. I don't want to share all of my secrets, all of our secrets, with a stranger. I'm fine." Even in the darkness, she could see a small frown develop on his face. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine, but I'm a professional fixer and I don't need someone else fixing me."

"Therapists don't fix you, Livvie, they support you while you heal yourself." Sensing her resistance, he quickly moved on. "I didn't ask you want you didn't want. I asked you what you _wanted_. How can I help you through this?"

Olivia sighed loudly. "I'm not sure. Space, time, and patience. I need your love to be steady, especially when it feels like my love is wavering. But, I also need you to call me on my bullshit. I'm a master at the art of spinning and sometimes this spills over into my personal life. This is all new and I don't know how to share my life with another person. I don't know how to be fully present for someone else, especially when it feels that doing so minimizes me or my gut is telling me to run. I need you to have enough belief for both of us."

"OK."

"OK?"

"Yes, we'll move forward together, slowly, and see if we can have the relationship we've been flirting with for years." Fitz tilted her head back and slowly lowered his face to her's, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He broke off the kiss before things became too heated. "Livve, we're not done talking."

"I know, but not tonight. I'm completely drained. I have nothing left to give."

He gently kissed her temple before bidding her goodnight.

"Night, Fitz," she mumbled before drifting off to a surprisingly peaceful slumber in the security of his embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

Olivia woke up early the next morning and was unsurprised to find that she and Fitz retreated to their respective sides of the bed during the night. He was still asleep, but facing her, the sunlight leaking through the blinds creating a soft glow around his face. Her body yearning to be connected with his, she reached out to softly caress his cheek, but suddenly withdrew her hand at the final moment before contact. She couldn't risk waking him and end his serenity for her own personal comfort, not this morning.

Her heart ached as she acknowledged the peaceful expression now painted across his face would be lost the moment he opened his eyes and was returned to their current reality. There was no denying that they loved each other madly but this love, while life-changing and extraordinary, had proven to be at times painful, difficult, and devastating. Since meeting him, she had repeatedly rejected normal, easy, simple love in pursuit of a love that was all-consuming, but now she feared that love had burned through them both, leaving only remnants of their original relationship. Was there anything left to salvage or had they been reduced to two addicts hopelessly chasing their first high?

Craving quiet from her own thoughts, Olivia silently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Fitz, and headed down the hall toward the guest room where her things were stored. When she reached her destination, she wistfully smiled at her fully packed bags sitting in the middle of the room. Fitz was correct, she was packed and ready to run. As much as she wished she could deny it, she worried that she was ruined for love, too accustomed to living behind walls of her own creation, craving only the physical pleasure of lust, only rarely settling for the convenience and routine of commitment. She couldn't fathom how Fitz could be so steadfast in his determination to love and be loved by her. She desperately wanted to share his conviction, but her gut, the one that was seldom wrong, was screaming at her to run, to leave him before they destroyed each other. Eager to silence the voices in her head, Olivia moved one of her suitcases to the bed before unpacking it carefully in search of her bathing suit, cover up, flip flops, and toiletries. After a quick pit stop in the bathroom to freshen up and grab a towel, she headed for the outdoor pool.

Moments later, Olivia dove into the pool and remained submerged through several dolphin kicks, quickly adjusting to the cool water, before rising to the surface to initiate her stroke. Left arm, right arm, left arm, breathe, right arm, left arm, right arm, breathe. She repeated the mantra, allowing the rhythmic motions and breathing to become her sole focus. When she reached the end of the pool, she did a half somersault, pushed off the wall, and raced back to the other side of the pool. It had been a while since she was last in the pool and, after 15 laps, her muscles were starting to burn from the lactic acid build up. Olivia pushed through the pain building in her muscles, welcoming an endorphin high as she continued the torturous pattern.

Back in the bedroom, Fitz slowly began to stir, instinctively reaching for Olivia. Instead of being welcomed by her warm, lithe body, he was met by empty sheets, long since cooled when the occupier vacated earlier. He suddenly snapped awake, slowly searching the room for any evidence of Olivia. "Olivia," he called in the direction of the bathroom, hoping she was in there. When she didn't reply, he rose from the bed in search of his love. He checked the bathroom and closet, no sign of Olivia. Then he remembered her belonging were stored in the guest room.

Fighting against the rising panic that Olivia had a change of heart and fled in the middle of the night, he walked briskly in the direction of the guest room. He flung open the door, calling her name, but there was no response. He looked around the room, noting her garment bag and carry-on suitcase were neatly arranged on the floor and her overnight bag was open on the bed. He shook his head at her ridiculous habit of over-packing. How did she survive for weeks on the trail with only a simple carry-on bag? Why was her overnight open? Did she quietly change in here, so eager to flee that she willingly left her bags behind? Knowing she wasn't there, but desperate for a clue to her whereabouts he checked the guest bathroom. There were definite signs of activity, but it was unclear if Olivia freshened up before leaving or if she was still on the property.

Pushing through the ominous feeling overwhelming him, he continued to search the cabin room by room. There were no signs of Olivia, but surprisingly the secret service presence was also light. Fearing the lack of agents was the result of them escorting Olivia home, he set off in search of Daniel, he would know where exactly where Olivia was. As he approached the kitchen, he heard Daniel's voice and hurried in that direction. Bursting into the kitchen, he exclaimed "Where is she?", startling the chef, who was preparing breakfast. "Did she leave?"

Daniel calmly looked up from his coffee mug, enjoying how Ms. Pope turned the most powerful man in the world into an insecure, babbling fool. "She's outside, in the pool. There are a couple of agents watching over her, she's fine. Everything is under control," Daniel replied aloud, adding an internal "except you" to his statement.

Fitz relaxed instantly upon hearing that Olivia was still on the property. Only then was he able to register the startled look on the chef's face and realized what a sight he must be. In his desperation to find Olivia, he had completely skipped his morning ritual and barged into the kitchen wide-eyed and barefoot, still shirtless and in his pajama bottoms, his hair wild from sleep. He sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair, a poor attempt to tame his curls, before thanking Daniel and walking briskly toward the patio. He was almost out of the kitchen when he abruptly turned around and addressed the chef, "Whatever you are preparing smells delicious. Olivia and I will have our breakfast on the patio. I know this has been a most unusual weekend and I thank you for your dedication and discretion."

"I am honored to serve, sir," the chef replied. "I hope you won't find it forward of me to say that I've been a fan of Ms. Pope's since the early days of your first campaign. She is a master of her trade, easily dismantling and dismissing anyone foolish enough to challenge her. I'm not ashamed to admit I fanboyed a bit when she approached me the other night. Daniel and I didn't stand a chance against her. She's a very special woman."

Fitz felt an all too familiar twinge of jealousy as he listened to the chef rave about Olivia. Feeling a bit foolish for his initial reaction, Fitz responded, "I am sure Olivia would be flattered to hear you speak so positively of her. Speaking of Olivia, I better go find her. Do you mind if I grab a cup of coffee for me and tea for her to enjoy outside while wait for breakfast?"

"Of course, sir, I will have someone bring it you to right away."

Fitz bounded out of the kitchen so caught up in his thoughts that he missed the knowing smile shared between Daniel and the chef, each amused by the power wielded by the formidable Olivia Pope, as Daniel exited the kitchen trailing closely behind Fitz. As he headed for the pool, he reflected on how Olivia was _his_ special woman and vowed to do his damnedest to ensure that, before they left Camp David, she fully understood that there was nothing she could do, even her efforts at self-sabotage, that would alter his love, admiration, and desire for her.

When Olivia was fully spent she emerged from the pool, surprised to find Fitz, still shirtless in his pajamas bottoms, lounging in one of the deck chairs. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, she was gorgeous, as always, water droplets rolling down her sun-kissed skin. There was only one problem, she was wearing a black one-piece bathing suit with modest cutouts on the sides. "What are you wearing?"

"It's called a bathing suit. I'm sure you're familiar with them," she teased, drying off as she walked toward him.

"Yes, but why is there so much of it?"

"You make it sound like I'm wearing a burkini. This weekend is about meeting the real me, remember. The real me doesn't swim laps wearing a bikini."

"I've seen you swim laps before and you were always wearing a bikini."

"That," she said with a wicked smile, "was me swimming dressed for you. When I swim dressed for me, I wear this," she countered, gesturing to her bathing suit. "Quit your pouting, a racing suit would have been much worse," she mocked before tossing her wet towel at him. "How long have you baeen out here?" she asked.

"Not long, maybe about 10 minutes. I brought you tea," he said holding up a mug for her to see.

"Thank you," she replied before lowering her face to his for a proper greeting.

Fitz took advantage of her position, quickly pulling her onto his lap. "Fitz," she screeched, surprised by his unexpected action, "I'm going to get you all wet."

"That will be a bit of a role reversal," he whispered seductively in her ear. "How many laps did you do? Are you sore?" he asked, reaching down to gently massage her upper thighs.

"I did about 30. It's not too bad, nothing a long hot bath won't fix. Want to join me?" she flirted.

"Maybe, in a bit. For now, will you just sit with me," he asked, holding her tightly. Olivia reached for her tea before settling between his legs, slowly easing back trying to allow him to adjust to her cool, damp body. "Let's just be, here in this moment, before we have to go back in there and be those people."

"We don't have to be the angry, jealous, insecure people we were last night. We got through last night, together, we can be better today."

Fitz sat holding her securely in his arms, as if in fear that she would flee at the slightest provocation. After a few minutes, he felt her relax into his body and marveled at how quickly his body followed suit. Even given the current tension between them, there was no denying their unique connection. Confident she wasn't a flight risk, he repositioned himself slightly, his fingers now splayed across her material covered abdomen. He allowed his mind to delight in what could have been if she had made a different decision. He imagined the fuzzy, tingling sensation he would get from holding her just like this, but knowing that there was a life growing beneath his hand. He, of course, felt this excitement before with Mellie, during her pregnancies, but suspected it would be a very different experience with Olivia.

Everything was different with Olivia. He didn't know if it was the depth of their love, the mutual intellectual stimulation or their intense physical and emotional connections, but being with her made even the most mundane act feel special and new. The way she made everything new only intensified his desire to experience the entirety of his adult life over with her, this included having and raising children. Would their lives together be complete without children? Would watching her be stepmother to his children, especially Little Teddy, be enough? Did he want more? Did he need more?

As if reading his mind, Olivia tentatively called out to him, disrupting his anxiety driven spiral. "Yes?" he responded, not certain if he said something other than his name.

"Where did you go?" she asked, gently placing her hand over his.

"Hunh?"

"Just now, you were present, here with me, but suddenly you disappeared. Where did you go?"

"I was thinking about you, us, our future."

"You were thinking about babies?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes. Does that upset you?"

"No. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, but I have other questions." Olivia shifted in his arms, moving to face him. "No," he said as he gently restrained her, halting her movements. "Don't move. I'm not picking a fight. Just asking questions I should have asked last night," he stated, placing a soft kiss against her temple for reassurance.

"What do you want to know?"

"You said going through with it was the hardest thing you've ever done, but you also said you didn't lose anything. Which is true?"

She paused, giving herself time to gather her thoughts, searching for the best way to explain. "They're both true. Going through with it was hardest thing I've ever done, but not because of any personal loss. It was the hardest thing I've done because of what I knew I was taking away from you. The pregnancy, a chance at a family, was always part of your vision for our future. I knew you wouldn't agree with my decision…"

"But I would have," he interrupted, his eyes filling with tears. "It would have been hard for me, but I would have accepted that it was your decision."

"I didn't know how to tell you that I was both pregnant and having an abortion. My decision was made and I couldn't risk you talking me out of it."

"Did you consider keeping the baby?"

"No, it was never an option for me. We weren't ready." She felt Fitz fidgeting beneath her and knew he was holding back. He was ready to start a family with her. She knew he was ready then, when they were living in the White House, to finally start their lives together. She was the hold-up, the reserved one, and often the reason why their attempts to be together failed.

Could Olivia Pope and the President of the United States exist in the same space? Could they find the balance that permits two alpha partners to thrive individually and united? If she was being honest with herself she would admit that at times it was nice, comforting even, to relax and allow Fitz to take the lead. His dominance was definitely a turn-on in the bedroom, hell, in any room. However, she hated it when she felt subjugated by his strong personality, especially when his power was derived from his position as president.

She thought, hoped, things would be different when he was no longer president, but worried he would continue to cast a long shadow after he transitioned. The thought of being the one left behind, raising children and tending to the household, as he influenced policy and changed the world sickened her. That's not the life she wanted for herself and that night, the night she left the White House, she made the ultimate sacrifice, letting him go, to avoid that life becoming her future.

Yet, in spite of that, here she was, once again wrapped in the cocoon of his love, considering returning to the White House in her dual role as employee and lover. Was she being foolish to think that they could make it work this time, that they both could have it all? What did having it all mean to him? Did it include kids? If he had to choose between being a parent and being with her, would he choose her?

She pulled herself from her thoughts and added, "I wasn't ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready."

Fitz tensed beneath her, worried that they were approaching an impasse. In order to be together, one of them would have to make a sacrifice. For all his talk of sacrifice and devotion, he was aware that, in reality, he had given up very little to be with Olivia, but that, for her, the reputation, financial, and emotional costs were high. Was it his turn to give for what he loved? Eager to push the conversation forward, he shifted the topic to another one of his concerns. "Did it hurt?" he asked, his face twisted in a grimace as he pictured her in pain.

"It was more uncomfortable than painful. Nothing I couldn't handle with a little pranayama."

"I would have been there," he offered, his voice cracking with emotion. "If you told me, I would have been there with you, by your side, holding your hand. Afterward, I would have taken you home, not the White House, but your condo. I would have bought you a ridiculously expensive bottle of red wine and gourmet popcorn, your definition of comfort food. I would have taken care you because I love you and you show up for the people you love. I know it's too late and I hope we're never in that position again, but I want you to know that I will always choose you, love you, and support you. We don't have to agree for me to show up for you."

Olivia felt herself suffocating under the weight of his words, the weight of his emotion. Struggling for air, and fighting against the panic, she began to rationalize with herself. Of course he was saying all of the right things now, she was here, in front of him and he didn't want to risk losing her again. What would happen when they had to part ways at the end of the day? What would happen when all of the noise and distractions were eliminated and he was left alone with this thoughts and feelings? Would he still love her when the pain stripped away his blinders and he was finally able to see all of her?

Hiding her true emotional reaction, she opted for a more literal response querying, "Can you imagine the circus that would have been? The presidential motorcade pulling up to the office. Armed guards with MP5 submachine guns lined up on the surrounding rooftops. My security detail and your detail posted in the hallways and standing guard outside the door. Just the thought of that makes me anxious and the last thing I needed that night was something else to worry about. I was already taking care of you and Mellie, playing nice with Senators' wives, and planning for your Cabinet dinner. That moment had to be about me taking care of me and I couldn't risk your presidency sucking up all the air in the room."

"Do you really think the physician didn't know who you were, didn't know who the father was? Your face was the most famous face in the country, maybe the world. Our charm offensive was planned and executed by some of the most brilliant political minds in the country. Thanks to your full press-junket, your beaming face was plastered on the cover of every magazine and you were a guest on every talk show. Hell, Mattel was planning an Olivia Pope Barbie doll. I was in that room whether invited or not."

"That may be true, but the specter of you was all I could handle in that moment."

"And afterwards, did you consider telling me?"

"Of course I did. I never set out to keep it a secret from you. If you recall, I returned to the White House following the procedure. I didn't have to do that. I could have gone to my condo or to Abby's. I wasn't hiding the abortion from you, the evening just didn't go as I planned."

"What did you think would happen when you didn't show up for the dinner?"

"I expected you to be disappointed, upset, and maybe a little angry, but I didn't expect you to be enraged. We've had our share of fights, but I can't ever remember you being that angry, especially not for something as insignificant as missing a dinner. Think about all of the horrible things we've done to each other, the horrible things I've done to you, you've never exploded the way you did that night. I immediately thought you knew, that someone had leaked the information back to you because why else would you be so angry. If you didn't know, why were you so angry?"

"I wasn't angry…," he trailed off quietly. "I was scared," he continued in a hushed tone.

"You were scared? Of what?"

"I was afraid that I had lost you. You were unhappy and I didn't know how to make you happy. It was clear that you didn't want to be my wife and that you were miserable living in the White House. Sure, you were going through the motions and were brilliant in the role of First Girlfriend, but it was obvious you didn't want to be there. I could feel you slipping away for weeks. You lost your sparkle and I barely recognized the woman I love. We weren't talking and, when we did, it was curt little comments full of sarcasm and reminders that you were still Olivia Pope, deserving of more. Still, I thought we would work through it together, that you would adjust to life in the White House and come back to me. Suddenly you were absent. Experience has taught me that when you disappear, especially when you know I need you, that you're gone and not coming back."

"Fit…," Olivia replied, turning to face him with tears glistening in her eyes. She was at a loss for words. Everything he said was spot on and that simultaneously caused her guilt for abandoning him after the loss of his son and anger that he knew she was miserable and did nothing to ease her suffering. She was miserable in the White House and they both knew she had far greater potential than playing the role of dutiful girlfriend for the president. Add to that the unexpectedly pregnancy and the White House walls had closed on her quickly, snuffing out any hope she had they would survive as a couple.

"That, our time in the White House, wasn't the relationship we wanted. I know everything about you, every single detail of your life, but I don't _know_ you. And, you know considerably less about me."

"Who's fault is that?" he interrupted.

"I'm not assigning blame, I'm just saying we needed time and space to protect and nurture our relationship, but we didn't get that. Did we? Instead we were outed by the press after a couple of weeks. We were broken going into this relationship and we never had a chance to heal. We were outed, then I stupidly confirmed that I was your mistress…"

"That wasn't stupid it was brave and honest."

"It was all three. I was emotional and wasn't thinking. I should have seized control of the narrative. Instead, I let the press define us and we were left scrambling after that. There were the congressional hearings, the shotgun divorce and proposal, runaway bride, I released my father, and you had me arrested."

"I didn't have you arrested," he interrupted again. "I would never, could never…"

"But, you left me there, locked in a room, again, after all I've been through."

"Liv…," he replied softly, his voice laced thickly with emotion, staring sincerely into her eyes. "I was angry and hurt. I obviously wasn't thinking clearly. I would never intentionally do anything that would traumatize you."

"You wouldn't? Are you sure?" she asked, returning his stare, searching his face for answers.

Fitz refused to wilt under the heat of her gaze. "You're not seriously asking me that," he stated incredulously. "You know me. Regardless of what you said earlier, you _know_ me. Am I guilty of hurting you, intentional or otherwise? Yes. Has me loving you and selfishly refusing to let you go, even though I know I can't protect you, caused you unspeakable pain? Yes. There was no way for me to know what Andrew was planning. I did everything humanly possible to get you back. I worked with Jake and your staff, started a war, made a devilish deal with Mellie, compromised national security, and violated the trust of American people all in an attempt to get you back safely. There is nothing I wouldn't have sacrificed, including my own life, to get you back. Hell, if you had been with me that night, instead of him, none of that would have ever happened."

"Why?" she spat angrily. "Because you're bigger, braver, stronger than Jake? I'm not in the mood for your jealous bullshit today."

"No," he replied evenly, hoping his steady tone would calm her down. "It wouldn't have happened because Secret Service follows me everywhere I go and will for the rest of my life. They keep me safe and, when I'm with you, they keep you safe. Having you physically with me is the only way I can keep you safe. That's why I so abruptly moved you into the White House after I found out that your father was released. Whether you want to admit it or not, your father is a threat to us, a threat to you, and the only people I trust to protect you are Secret Service or Navy SEALs."

"Fitz," she whispered, reaching out to caress his face, firmly but gently holding his face in place. Staring deeply into his beautiful blue eyes, she responded, "My father has caused you immeasurable and unforgivable suffering, but he would never hurt me. I don't need you to keep me safe from him."

"How can you be sure that he's not the mastermind behind your kidnapping?

"What?" she asked, confused by the sudden change in direction. "Where is this coming from? Andrew is responsible for my kidnapping. Do you have any evidence that my father was involved?" Olivia asked, the uncertainty creeping into her voice.

"Just my instincts as a father." Olivia raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting Fitz to continue. "I know Jake met with Rowan to enlist his help finding you. You were missing for weeks. Everyone who loves you, including your mother, was doing everything they could to find you and bring you home. We were all sick with worry about your well-being. All of us, but your father. I'm admittedly a terrible father, but if Karen or Teddy was taken from me, there is no way I would sit idly by on the sidelines. You really believe that I started a war, but your father, the man who loves to remind us both just how powerful he is, did nothing. The only possible explanation is that your father wasn't worried about you because he knew exactly where you were and how you were being treated."

Needing space to process this new revelation, Olivia moved to a nearby deckchair. Fitz stared at her intently watching her consider his theory. He had been convinced of her father's involvement for more than a year, but hesitated to bring it up with her without evidence. Olivia's relationship with her father was complex, but at the end of the day he was her father and Fitz had always been careful to respect his role in her life and candid with her about any actions taken against her father. Now he worried that he had crossed the line and she would shut down. "Liv, say something. What are you thinking."

"My father would never hurt me," she replied in a terse voice.

"Think about it Liv, were you actually hurt?"

"How can you ask me that?" she asked coldly. "Just because I wasn't raped or beaten doesn't mean I wasn't hurt. I lived in fear for my life for weeks. I was stuck in some twisted theater to disorient and manipulate me into trusting and then grieving for my kidnapper. I killed a man trying to escape. I auctioned myself to the highest bidder as the president's favorite sex toy, twice. Is that hurt enough for you?"

Fitz raised his hands in surrender. This was the first she ever spoken in detail about what happened to her while she was kidnapped. He knew some of the details because he read the CIA's report after her debrief, but sitting here, hearing it in her own words was completely different. She was cold, detached in her brief recounting of events and he now worried that her traumatic experience wasn't buried as deeply as she pretended. "Come here," he implored while reaching for her. "Please."

Slowly Olivia moved toward Fitz and gingerly retook her position between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. After about 30 seconds, he finally broke the silence, "I need to know that you're safe. Please let me protect you."

"It's not your job to protect me. I can take care of myself."

"It is when I'm the reason why you're vulnerable. I know you are Olivia Pope and capable of doing anything you set your mind to but, if we are going to be together, I need to know you're safe. Being with me makes you are target and if something else happened to you because of me…I just can't."

"Do you really think my father was involved?"

"I do. I wouldn't have mentioned it if I wasn't convinced and nothing you said, as terrible as that experience must have been for you and as badly as I want to hurt the men who hurt you, has changed my mind. Think about Liv, what you just described is psychological torture, your father's favorite brand. There was no way for him to know that you would kill someone, but I bet that made him proud. I believe you when you say he would never physically hurt you, but I've witnessed the damage he is capable of inflicting. I haven't been able to find the connection between Andrew and your father, but I never stopped looking for it."

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the Camp David staff bringing in breakfast. "To be continued?", she asked with a quick peck to his lips.

Squeezing her tightly, he responded, "To be continued," silently cursing the staff's timing.

Fitz's frustrations were quickly forgotten as breakfast was served. The chef prepared a delicious spread of mini quiches, pastries, fruits, cream, and mimosas. Quickly forgetting they were being watched, Fitz and Olivia lounged at the pool, taking turns feeding each other. Olivia squealed in delight when Fitz traced chased an errant drop of cream with his tongue between her breasts.

Fitz reached over and scooped a dollop of whipped cream into his fingers, drawing a line of whipped cream from the hollow of her throat between her breast before chasing it with his tongue. Olivia moaned in pleasure, arching her body firmly against his. "Fitz, we can't, the agents."

"Forget about them. They will turn around and I'll keep you covered," Fitz replied, reaching for another cream covered strawberry. This time, he used the strawberry to draw a line on Olivia's exposed sides. "You know," he whispered seductively, "this would be much easier if you weren't covered in so much material."

"Let's move this inside where there are less eyes and I can get rid the suit."

"But I haven't finished my breakfast," he whined, dipping his head to her exposed flesh. Olivia squirmed above him, quickly losing herself in the sensations Fitz was sending through her body. Fitz placed the strawberry between his teeth and pulled Olivia's face toward his. Olivia bit at the strawberry, intentionally missing and nipping at his lips before pulling the fruit seductively into her mouth. She made quick work of the strawberry and fused her lips with his, pushing her fruit laced tongue into his mouth without waiting for permission. He moaned loudly as she pressed her body flush again his. Her grabbed her by the waist and quickly flipped their positions, covering her small body with his.

While she feasted on his mouth, her began massaging her breast through her suit with one hand, snaking his other hand between their bodies in search of her core. Feeling her stiffen beneath him, he broke their kiss. Balancing on one arm and hovering about her, her whispered in her ear, "Relax, they can't see you. I have you completely covered. I'm done sharing you." Before she could respond, he reached beneath her suit and stroked her slit.

"Fuck, Fitz," she hissed, pushing her hips toward him.

"Damn you are so wet," he moaned, pushing first one then a second finger into her channel, stroking her repeatedly. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare," she warned, shedding the last of her inhibition, spreading her legs wider and grinding down on his hand.

Fitz dropped his head to her breast and sucked her material covered nipple into mouth. It wasn't long before Olivia was moaning loudly and thrashing wildly beneath him. He could tell she was close, but just needed a little push. Without interrupting his rhythm, he used thumb to draw circles with her clit, apply gently pressure. Fitz pulled away from her slightly so he could watch her shatter beneath him. He smiled as he watched her eyes flutter closed before rolling back slightly. She was in freefall now and there was nothing more beautiful than watching her give into her pleasure. He eased off her clit, but continued to stroke her through her orgasm. He withdrew his fingers and pressed his body against hers as she slowly recovered.

He didn't know what he'd done to deserve her, but he would gladly do it again and again if it meant that he would get the spend the rest of his life pleasing her. He was determined that this time would be different, this weekend was going to be the first weekend of the rest of their lives together. He knew one conversation and one orgasm didn't fix anything. They still needed to work on their relationship, but this morning proved that if they communicated and trusted each other, they could be different, better, people. When she finally opened her beautiful brown eyes, he was so overcome with emotion that all he could say was, "Hi."

"Hi." Olivia sighed heavily. If given the choice she would stay here, wrapped in his arms forever, but that wasn't an option, wasn't their reality. They didn't get to choose to take a break from the real world. It could only be held at bay for a few stolen moments and theirs were quickly coming to an end. "That was heavenly," she said, reaching for her mimosa. "The things that man can do with an egg."

"Really, you want to talk about the things he can do with an egg?" he asked, rolling off of her, his pretty face pouting up at her.

"I'm sorry, did you do something special today?" she teased.

"Be careful Ms. Pope," he warned, tracing the fingers still smeared with her essence across her lips. "You may be asking for more than you can handle."

Olivia hummed in response before parting her lips and sucking his fingers into her mouth. "Do we have time? What time are we leaving today?"

"We have all the time you need," he whispered seductively in her ear. "We aren't leaving today."

"What?" Olivia responded, pulling away from him, trying to rein in her emotional response.

"I asked Charlotte to call Quinn and clear your schedule for the next couple of days."

"When did you speak with Charlotte?" she questioned coolly.

"Yesterday, before I returned to the main cabin."

She pushed away from him and rose to her feet. "You have to stop doing this," she replied sternly.

"What?" he asked, confused by her reaction.

"You have to talk to me before making decisions about me. I won't be controlled by you. Didn't you just ask me for the same last night?"

"Relax, I'm not trying to control you, I was just trying to help."

"Don't tell me to relax," she countered loudly. "Don't try to make this about my reaction. This is about you deciding what's best for me without consulting me. You don't know what I have planned this week. I may not be president, but my job is important too. I have responsibilities and people counting on me. I can't just let them down because you want me to stay here with you."

"Where is all of this coming from? I didn't mean to upset you and I don't think my job is the only job that matters. However, you are more important to me than being president, more important than anything else. We needed more time to talk, time to heal, so I asked Charlotte to clear our schedules. Why is that the wrong thing to do?"

"It's not what you did, Fitz. It's that you did it without asking me. If you had asked I would have told you if I could stay or not, but you didn't ask. You never do. You just take action and expect me to follow. I won't do that, can't do that. I have to be my own person and free to make my own decisions," she declared, stalking off toward the house.

So much for being better people than we were yesterday he thought as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair before following her in the house.


	8. Chapter 8

When Fitz arrived in the bedroom, the adjoining bathroom door was closed and he could hear the bath water running. Assuming his invitation to join her was officially rescinded, he grabbed his cellphone from the nightstand and headed for the study to make a few calls.

He placed his first phone call to Grace, hoping she would be unavailable and he could leave a message. He was already dealing with an angry and pouting Olivia, he didn't have the bandwidth to entertain a suddenly needy Grace as well. At the same time, he knew if he kept ignoring Grace's calls she would keep calling and that would only upset Olivia further. He smiled in victory as Grace's phone continued to ring without response. He was mentally running through the message he was planning to leave when Grace answered.

"Please tell me it's not true!" Grace exclaimed angrily.

"Hunh?" he responded. Initially confused by her greeting, Fitz suddenly began to panic that Grace had learned that he was spending the weekend with Olivia. Oh well, he shrugged, he had to break-up with her eventually, now was as good a time as any. "What are you talking about? What don't you want to be true?"

"Don't play coy with me, Fitzgerald," she scolded

Fitz scowled at the use of his full first name. Only two women in his life, his mother and Liv, were allowed to use that name in that manner and he wasn't interested in adding a third. "Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about. If you explain, I'll try to address your concern."

"The DC elite are all atwitter because word has leaked that you are vetting Olivia Pope to be your next Chief of Staff. Please tell me you are not seriously considering hiring your mistress."

"She's not my mistress," he growled in warning.

"Semantics," she dismissed. "You can't really be planning to hire the woman you've publicly admitted to fucking _for years_ to work for you in the White House."

"Work _with_ me," he corrected softly.

"What?"

"Work with me, my Chief of Staff works with me, not for me."

"You _are_ vetting her," she huffed.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it either."

"I can't discuss this with you," he responded, the frustration evident in his tone.

"Don't give me that bullshit," she countered, ignoring his verbal cues. "I'm not asking you to disclose national secrets. I just want to know if you are vetting Olivia Pope, a woman with whom you have a history of cheating, for a position in your administration. As your girlfriend, I think I'm entitled to a response."

"Is this why you called me four times?" Fitz deflected, wanting to change the subject before he unloaded on Grace. The last thing he and Olivia needed was tabloid attention and he wasn't sure he could trust a wounded and jealous Grace not to make her feelings public.

"So you are receiving my calls, just not returning them?"

"Yes," he sighed in exasperation. "I received your calls, but I've been sequestered away dealing with something important for the last 48 hours."

"I'm sorry," she responded meekly. "I hate being this person, but the thought of you working with _her_ makes me crazy. Are you planning to hire her?"

"I told you I can't talk about that."

"Fitz…" she whined softly.

"Grace, listen, I can tell you that I have a Chief of Staff, Cyrus. He has not informed me that he is resigning and I have no plans to fire him. If this changes in the future, I will need a new Chief of Staff. Olivia would be an excellent candidate, but obviously there's baggage there. I promise you that if Olivia is ever the selected candidate for any position in the White House, you will hear it from me, and not from the rumor mill. This is the best I can do. I'm sorry, but you knew going into this relationship that there would be things we couldn't talk about."

"I never expected Olivia Pope to be one of those things," she replied, defeated. "Will I see you soon?"

Eager to reassure her, he replied, "This thing isn't over and it will probably take a couple of days to resolve. I'll ask Charlotte to find time for us at the end of the week. I'll call you when I can."

"OK. I can't wait to see you. I miss you."

"I miss you too," Fitz lied before abruptly ending the call.

Frustrated, he hurled his phone across the room. Abby only had one fucking job to do, quietly vet Olivia to join him in the West Wing, why couldn't she get that right? How the hell did news of Olivia's vetting get leaked? Now that Cyrus was leaving, Abby was the most trusted member of his team. He was planning to offer her the Chief of Staff position before he changed his mind and spontaneously offered it to Olivia. Did Abby assume she would be Cyrus's heir apparent? Was she intentionally sabotaging Olivia in hopes that she would get the job? That couldn't be, could it? Olivia was supposed to be her friend and Abby was loyal, right? Had he trusted the wrong person?

Finally, it dawned on him, he hadn't alerted Olivia about the vetting. The timing of this leak couldn't be worse. She was angrily locked in the bathroom now because he asked Charlotte to clear her schedule. How was he going to explain that, once again, he'd acted on her behalf without consulting her? Would she completely shut down and erase the progress they made this morning? Their last attempt to be together was thwarted by an early leak. Was history repeating itself? Would this leak make it impossible for Olivia to return to the White House and to him?

There was only one thing for Fitz to do. He had to tell Olivia everything, now, before she heard from someone else. She planned this weekend so that she could stand in her truth and ask for forgiveness and understanding. It was time for him to do the same.

When Fitz returned to the bedroom, the en-suite door was still closed. He leaned against the door listening for any signs of movement before knocking tentatively. "Fitz, is that you?" Olivia called out.

"Yes," he replied, opening the door and entering the bathroom. He found Oliva, her bath ended, wrapped in a fluffy towel, adjusting the water temperature for her shower.

"I thought you were joining me for a bath?"

"The door was closed. I wasn't sure I was still welcome," he admitted bashfully. Without warning, Olivia dropped her towel and stepped into the shower. Fitz swallowed hard, willing himself to stay strong, continue the conversation, and not give into his desire to take her roughly against the shower wall.

Unaware of the effect she was having on Fitz, she continued, "We're not fighting and I'm not mad. I'm mostly annoyed. I understand that you were trying to be thoughtful and take care of things, but it didn't feel like that. It felt like you were discounting my job and life, assuming that because you could make yourself available, I could as well. My needs can't always come second to yours and you have to talk to me before making plans for both of us."

The sight of Olivia naked, lathering up in the shower, was starting to have an unwelcome physical effect on him. He needed to focus. Now was not the time to be distracted by sex. He needed to tell her about the vetting and the leak before they fell back into bed. Ignoring the stirring in his loins, he turned his back to her and prepared to shave. "Well…can you?" he asked, sheepishly.

"Can I what?"

"Can you stay or do you need to leave?"

"I can stay tonight, but I need to leave tomorrow night. I have a meeting with Mellie and her publisher Tuesday morning and I don't want to reschedule."

"Why do you have to leave tomorrow night if the meeting isn't until Tuesday morning?"

"I'm not as young as I used to be. I can't stay up all night with you and then get up early Tuesday morning to avoid the traffic when we return to the city."

"I hate I missed your early 20's. I bet you were wild," he said, winking at her in the mirror. "I saw your garment bag in the guest room. Is that outfit appropriate for your meeting on Tuesday?"

"Were you listening or did you get distracted by thoughts of the dirty things you would do to 20-year-old me? This has nothing to do with clothes. I don't want to be stuck in DC traffic Tuesday morning and risk being late for my meeting."

He grinned broadly. "I think you forget who you are traveling with. We can return with lights and sirens and guarantee you won't miss your meeting."

"Arrogant much? In order to return with lights and sirens, you would need the full presidential motorcade and you would have to make it public that you spent the last few days at Camp David. Plus, how do you expect me to get out of the car if you've alerted the press to your absence and return?"

"You wound me, woman. New plan, we stay Monday night, I promise not to keep you up too late, and take Marine One to Andrews Tuesday morning. I will have someone from my staff drop off your car and we both can leave discretely and separately from Andrews. You are on time for your meeting and I slip back into the White House unseen. No one will know that I was missing or that we spent this time together at Camp David. Does that work?" he asked, flashing her his lopsided smile.

"Who could say no to that face? I'll stay Monday night and we can fly into the Base on Tuesday."

Pleased with the compromise, he beamed at her reflection in the mirror. That's when he noticed her bottom lips was protruding slightly. "Why are you pouting? Do you want to leave tonight?"

"No, I told you I would stay. It's not that."

"What is it then?"

"You're shaving," she whined.

"What?"

"You're shaving. I find scruffy Fitz to be incredibly sexy," she flirted.

Fitz felt his dick twitch. Damn this woman, first she's naked and wet and now she wants to flirt. She knew how his body responded to her body. Why did she insist on torturing him?"

He broke eye contact with her. Focus, Fitz, focus. You have to tell her now or risk her finding out from someone else. "You should have said something before I started. I promise you scruffy Fitz all day long tomorrow."

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're all serious and won't make eye contact with me. What have you done?"

Fitz raised his hands in surrender, slowly turning toward Olivia. "Hear me out before you get angry."

"What have you done that might make me angry?" she asked suspiciously.

"What had happened was...," he said with a wide grin.

"Don't be cute. Just tell me what you did."

"Before we left for the weekend, before we talked about me acting independently, I asked Abby to put together a small group to start vetting you for the Chief of Staff position."

"You what?" she asked angrily. "How could you? This is exactly what I'm talking about."

"I know and I won't do it again, but I asked Abby to start the vetting before I knew the real purpose of this weekend. I thought we were escaping to have a romantic weekend before our relationship shifted from the personal to the professional."

"Fitz…," she replied exasperated. "I haven't even accepted the position. You should have warned me. I need to call Huck," she spat, moving quickly to wrap up her shower to make the call.

Fitz again raised his hands, this time to halt her activities. Proceeding cautiously, he added, "Don't worry Abby talked to Huck. Everything is clean. You'll pass the vetting without problem."

"So...let me see if I understand correctly, you're talking to Abby and Abby's talking to Huck, but no one is talking to me. Did any of you stop to consider if I even want the job? Or did you just decide that you wanted me to have the job and everyone took action to give you what you wanted? This is exactly what I was talking about earlier. I can't be expected to fall in line because you ask me to. I have a life and not all of it is about you," she explained in a huff.

"I understand and I'm sorry. I started everything in motion before we left, before we talked. I was just trying to help, trying to make it easier for you..."

"Don't do that," she interrupted. "Don't betray me and then act like it's a fucking gift. You were only thinking about yourself, about what you wanted. You should have talked to me. You should have asked me if I was ready to move forward. I should have been the one to talk to my people, not Abby," she said, angrily grabbing her shampoo.

"Can I do that?"

"What?" she asked, snapping her head in his direction.

"Can I wash your hair?"

"You want to wash my hair?"

"Yes, if you will let me."

Olivia released a deep exhale, trying to move past her anger. "I guess you can," she replied, laughing at how eagerly Fitz moved to strip off his pajamas. "But I'm still mad at you."

Fitz joined her in the shower, grimacing as the scalding water assaulted his skin. "I really am sorry," he responded, pausing to kiss her on the forehead before standing fully under the spray.

"I know you are, but I need more than your apologies. I need you to stop acting for me," she explained turning away from him.

He took a few steps backward and pulled her towards him and into the spray, careful to allow some space between their bodies. He fought against the urge connect with her, to finish what they had started earlier, but he knew that would only delay the inevitable. His conversation with Grace had the potential to disrupt Oliva's transition to the West Wing before she even accepted the job. When her hair was soaked, he moved them forward, reaching around her for the bottle. He poured a dollop of her shampoo in his palm and gently started working the shampoo into her hair and massaging her scalp. Olivia released a soft moan of appreciation.

"Livvie..."

"Yes," she replied softly, leaning fully against him, trusting him to support her weight.

"There's something else I need to tell you."

Her body tensed against him. "What?"

"There's already been a leak about your vetting."

"What?" she asked flipping around to face him quickly.

He slowly spun her away from him and pulled her flush against him, continuing to lavish attention on her hair. "Relax, Livvie, I know you want in. When we finish here, I'll read you in completely and then we'll call Abby together to discuss how you want to proceed." Before she could respond, he pulled her fully under the spray to both rinse her hair and silence her.

Olivia stood in the front of the mirror looking at her hair. "Don't straighten it, please," he requested quietly.

"I thought you liked it straight."

"I did, I do, but I thought this weekend was about meeting the real you. Do you really straighten your hair on Sunday?"

"I do. I never know when I'll be called into the office and it takes too long to style to wait until I get called to do so."

Determined to be right, he cheekily asked, "Even on vacation?"

Olivia smiled sadly, her mind involuntarily recalling the time she spent on the island with Jake. "No, I don't straighten it on vacation."

Oblivious to her changed demeanor and pleased with his victory, he said, "Then it's settled, you'll leave it curly."

Suddenly needing space from him, she asked, "Will you go to the guest room and select something for me to wear?"

"You want _me_ to dress _you_? Is this some kind of test?"

She playfully shot a hair tie in his direction. "You've seen me dressed casually plenty of times. Just grab my favorite things and bring them to me, please."

"For you, anything," he replied, placing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose before exiting the bedroom in search an outfit.

When Fitz returned to the bedroom, Olivia was seated on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe. "We need to talk," Olivia said patting the bed beside her in invitation for him to be seated.

"I'm sorry, Liv. I get it now, no more making decisions about you without you."

"It's not that it's…"

"Trust me, Liv," he interrupted. "This leak is just a minor setback. We don't know yet how people are responding to the news. Everyone in DC owes you a favor. I can't imagine this will be a problem."

Olivia smiled weakly. "I'm not worried about the leak. Abby can handle that. We need to talk about the time we spent apart when I left for the island."

"About what?" Fitz's face twisted into a painful grimace as the realization of what she was asking washed over him. "Where is this coming from?"

"You brought it up." Fitz's expression turned to one of confusion, he knew that nothing he said in the last hour prompted her to bring up that painful part of their past. He remained silent, inviting her to continue uninterrupted. "You asked if I straightened my hair on vacation. The last 'vacation' I took was when I went to island, when I left you."

"I don't understand what your time on orgasm island has to do with me. You left me to run away with him, remember?" he questioned angrily.

"I remember," she responded sadly. "I didn't run away with him, I was running away from you and he was a convenient companion."

Realizing that Olivia has once again dropped her defenses, he seized the moment. "Why did you leave?"

"I didn't have a choice. I was afraid of what they would do to you if I stayed."

"They? I'm the most protected man in the world. Who were you afraid of?"

"My parents, they were determined to keep us apart by any means necessary. First, my mother tried to alter the make-up of our government with an explosion that would have killed you, Sally, and numerous other legislatures and justices. If she had been successful, it would have taken more than a decade for our country to recover from the devastation. Then, she gets close enough to you, to your family, to kill your son. It could have just as easily been you."

"That wasn't your mother."

"Different parent, but the same goal, to alter the course of our government and drive a wedge between us that our love couldn't overcome."

"They were wrong, our love never wavered."

"But my faith did." She reached over and grasped Fitz's chin, gently applying pressure to turn his head so that he was facing her. She confidently held his intent gaze and said, "I'm sorry."

Fitz gasped in surprise. Olivia had never, not once, apologized for anything she had done, not for Defiance, not for keeping the abortion secret, not for anything and the magnitude of this moment wasn't lost on Fitz. He smiled softly at her before responding, "I forgive you. I forgive you for everything, for leaving, for Defiance, for not telling me about the abortion…"

Olivia's body tensed, "Only for not telling you about the abortion?"

"That's the only thing you need forgiveness for. You made a decision that was yours to make. If allowed, my only role would have been to support you during the decision-making process and afterward."

"There's something else we need to talk about."

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"We need to talk about what Tom said when I visited him in prison, about what happened with you while I was away."

Fitz leapt from the bed, eager to put as much distance between them as possible. "We can talk about anything but that." Simply put, he didn't talk about the suicide attempt and he wasn't about to change that just because she was feeling guilty about leaving him. Desperately trying to push away the painful memories she was trying to dredge up, he continued, "It wasn't a good time for me. Tom already told you more than you should know. I don't talk about what happened" he responded coolly.

"Not even with me? Not after everything we've been through?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Especially not with you. I've done the work I needed to do. I don't need or want to rehash all of this with you."

"I can't believe you're shutting me out."

"I'm not shutting you out. I'll talk about anything you want, my life is an open book, except for this. That's not the person I am now and that night didn't involve you." Olivia's head snapped up, her eyes locked onto his, and a small gasp of surprise escaped her lips, causing her to flush with embarrassment.

"Ahhh…I see, you thought it was about you. Is that what Tom told you? Let me guess, you thought Jerry died…" Fitz took a long pause, collecting himself emotionally before continuing. "You assumed Jerry died, you left, and I lost my reason to live? Of course you did. This isn't about me at all, it's about assuaging your guilt for leaving. I can help you there." He looked deeply into her sad brown eyes, holding her gaze for a full 10 seconds before speaking. "You are not responsible for what I did that night. You leaving with Jake didn't push me over the edge. I didn't even know you were with Jake until you returned. And, I always knew that you would return, maybe not to me, but I knew you weren't done being Olivia Pope."

"Fitz…"she replied, her tone more pleading than she intended.

"What Olivia? What do you want from me?" Olivia stared at him blankly, her reply stuck in her throat. "Ahhh…yes…how could I forget. You can't answer that question, can you? Not if you can't answer with sex."

"You don't have to be cruel," she fired back.

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not being cruel. I'm just not giving you what you want. I can't give you want you want. You're asking for too much."

Olivia sighed deeply. "You don't trust me."

"Of course I do. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't."

"Oh…you trust me with your secrets. You let me be your sin-eater, chasing away the darkness you fear resides within you. You spend your anger, frustration, and guilt inside me. Eagerly allowing me to drown those in my body, leaving you euphoric and unburdened. But, your fears, insecurities, and doubts," she pausing, inhaling deeply. "You don't trust me with those. You used to let me see you, but not anymore, not since the night your son died."

"My son was killed," he retorted.

"By your girlfriend's mother, or so you thought. The same girlfriend, the one person you counted on to be there for you, that left you," she pushed. "What else happened? What pushed you to that point?"

Finally, she'd pushed the right buttons and all of the emotion from that night came rushing to the surface. The pressure was too much to be contained and she had skillfully placed herself between him and the door. Overwrought with emotion, Fitz sobbed, "You already know. Why can't you let this go?"

"I need to hear it from you. Please, Fitz," she begged, taking a step toward him.

There was no escaping her and only one way to finally be free, to once again give into her. "I was a complete fraud, every aspect of my life was a carefully crafted and well-orchestrated lie to achieve one goal, a Grant in the White House. It wasn't even my goal. I never wanted to be president, that was my father's dream, but his serial adultery made him unelectable. So, instead, he and Cyrus decided to right my father's wrongs with me. It started off with small subtle things, pressure to go to Yale undergrad, when I would have rather been closer to home, and the Rhodes Scholarship application handed to me by my mentor."

"You joined the Navy after that. That could haven't been part of their plan."

"No, that was the first honest thing in my adult life, something that I did just for me. But, your father ruined that for me with Operation Remington. I thought I was a sailor following orders, but instead I was just a pawn in his plan to leverage the Chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee to ensure the B-613 coffers were always full. My father was pissed that your father threatened to tarnish his golden boy's reputation, but didn't hesitate to use the fact that he saved me from scandal and potential time in the Brig to force me into attending Harvard Law and marrying the beautiful and charming, yet vapid, Melody Carmichael."

While the topic of Fitz's relationship with Mellie wasn't taboo, Olivia was shocked that he was including their marriage in this discussion. Olivia knew their marriage was dead long before she came into the picture, but she always assumed that there were happier times in the early days of their courtship and was surprised that he was now labeling their entire relationship as a fraud. "Were you ever happy and in love with Mellie?"

Fitz searched Olivia's eyes to determine if she really wanted an answer to that question. Understanding what he was looking for, she smiled sadly and nodded her head for him to continue. "We were never in love, but we were happy. We both understood and accepted the expectations placed upon us by our fathers and were grateful to have each other as companions. For a long time, she was my ally and partner as I tried to navigate the path my father laid before me. You wouldn't know it today, but back then she was my wife, best friend, cheerleader, and therapist. The marriage may have been arranged, but we were determined to create the loving and supportive family that neither one of us had growing up. Jerry was conceived out of that love." Fitz smiled weakly, "Being Jerry's father was the second honest decision I made for me."

Olivia sniffled, fighting back tears, "My father took him from you too."

Not wanting Olivia to get lost in her guilt, Fitz quickly replied, "Yes, but my relationship with Jerry was altered long before that. After Jerry was conceived, something in Mellie changed. I now understand what happened and I hate my father for forcing himself on my wife and ruining my family before it even started, but, I'm not completely blameless. I noticed the changes in Mellie, but kept pretending that we were fine, the All-American family. When Mellie suggested we send Jerry to boarding school when he turned seven, I thought it was absurd, a child that age needed his parents, but when she pushed, citing the growing demands on her time as First Lady of California and my evolving political career, I acquiesced. I loved my son, I love all my children, but I'm a fraud as a husband and father."

"That's not the whole truth. You're not looking at the full picture."

"That's the point. I wasn't in a place where I could see the full picture. The pain and grief of losing Jerry amplified my failures and losses and blinded me to my successes and the good in my life. Which, brings me to the third and final honest decision I made just for me, loving you. For most of my life, I was told that a love like ours wasn't real. That it was the stuff of fairytales and romance novels. Then New Hampshire happened and you blew into my life like a tornado, spewing truths and alarming the staff." Olivia chuckled softly, recalling the shocked look on everyone's face when she spoke up from the back of the room. "I knew immediately that my life would never be the same and that I would never want it to be. After a few weeks on the trail, it became obvious to me that I was falling in love with you and there was nothing I could do to stop it. What I never thought would happen is that you would fall in love with me too. Think about it, I was this old, married, white, father of two running for president. But, somehow, you saw past all of that…"

"Because you let me see you. The real you, which is far more than the man you just described. Fitz, you are honest, smart, charming, funny, kind, and sincere, not to mention gorgeous and rich," she teased, tears filing her eyes. "You may not be perfect, none of us are, but you were perfect for me. Loving you wasn't a choice I made; I was just as powerless to stop that as you were."

Fitz looked at her with tears glistening in his eyes. "Those were things I could only believe when you said them. You were, and you still are, the truth and light in my life. When you left, you took the light and the truth with you. I was surrounded by examples of my lies and failures and, without you, all that was left was the darkness and doubt. Who would want to live like that? I didn't," he whispered softly. Olivia was shocked by his sudden admission and yearned to comfort him, but remaining rooted in place, fearful any movement would distract him. Instead, she pleaded with her eyes for him to continue.

Fitz paused to gather himself before continuing, "After being angry with my mother for nearly 30 years I finally understood her decision, understood the darkness that takes over a person when her light leaves. I was my mother's light, but I was so eager to escape my father's darkness and abuse that I didn't stop to consider that would happen to her. I left her there, all alone with him, and it killed her."

"I thought your mother accidentally drowned," Olivia said, more a question than a statement.

"That's the official version."

"She had a dangerous combination of alcohol and painkillers in her system, but her death was accidental."

"That's the unofficial version."

"What else is there?"

"The truth. My mother killed herself. Her death was a suicide, not an accident."

"Having drugs and alcohol in her system doesn't prove her death wasn't an accident."

"No, but a suicide note does."

"A suicide note? You found a note? Cyrus never mentioned anything about a note."

"That's because he doesn't know. I was stationed overseas at the time. My mother sent the letter to me at the Base. I didn't receive it until after the funeral and I never told anyone about the letter."

"Oh…Fitz," Olivia replied, her eyes filled with tears. Her heart broke for the young man that lost his mother in such a tragic way and for the man she knew that found himself in a similar situation 30 years later. Fitz rarely talked about his mother, but Olivia knew she was the supportive parent, the one that showered him with unconditional love. While his father certainly deserved credit for creating Fitz the president, it was his mother that was responsible for shaping Fitz the man, the man with whom she was irrevocably in love. Having also lost her mother at an early age, she always wondered why he felt abandoned by his mother's death, now she understood. "All these years you've carried that burden by yourself. Why didn't you tell someone?"

"Who was I supposed to tell, my father? If she wanted him to know, she would have left him a letter. Who else should I have told? Mellie, my loving and supportive wife? Cyrus? You? It wasn't my secret to tell, just like it wasn't Tom's place to tell you about that night." Fitz had never been this open, this raw and exposed, in front of anyone. In his youth, his father frequently berated him for his sensitivity but, as he matured, he learned to wear that label proudly. He understood that being comfortable with his masculinity involved being comfortable with his emotions and sensitive to the feelings of those who surrounded him.

"Fitz, look at me," Olivia implored. Fitz's eyes remained downcast as he refused to make eye contact with her. He couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the look mostly certainly on her face now. He didn't want her pity and couldn't handle her guilt. He never wanted to have this conversation with her, never wanted her to see him like this.

Olivia waited patiently while Fitz battled with himself. Gone was the confident and sexy president, the broken young man that was never allowed to heal, never allowed to develop fully into the man he had the potential to be, replaced him. "I'm sorry," she stated, hoping that the love and remorse behind that sentiment could penetrate through the defenses he was quickly rebuilding.

"Don't be," he replied, turning his back to her and walking away. "I told you, that night wasn't about you. That night was all on me, I and I alone am responsible for what happened. It was about me seeing myself, my real self, not the man that my father, Cyrus, Mellie, and you created. It was a terrible, awful night and I made an incredibly selfish decision, but, thanks to Tom, I survived and I'm stronger for it."

"How did you get enough privacy to try? Where was everyone that surrounds you all the time? Where was Tom?"

"I was in the only private space I've found in the past seven years. Only one person would dare interrupt me there and she was out of the country, so I knew it was safe."

A look of shock and then horror flashed across Olivia's face as she realized where he was. "You…you...," she stuttered, "you were in my condo?"

Fitz turned around slowly. "I'm sorry. I realize that was a complete invasion of your space. I never intended for you to know. I just needed to be close to you and I thought being surrounded by your things would bring back the light. But it didn't, and when it didn't, I started to suffocate, to drown in my own despair. In that incredible moment of weakness, I could only see one path out of the pain and I took it."

Olivia's tears began to fall freely as the reality of how close she came to losing him washed over her. Fitz slowly walked over the bed and sat at the edge. "Come here," he beckoned, patting the bed beside him and extending his arm to embrace her. Without hesitation, Olivia tucked her small body into his. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. "You don't have to worry. I saw someone, a therapist, she…"

"She?"

Fitz playfully tapped Olivia on her nose. "Are you jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"You wouldn't be if you knew what she looked like. I used to have this fantasy…" Fitz shook his head rapidly trying to clear his mind of that image, making Olivia laugh. "Fantasy is the wrong word, hope is better. I used to have this hope that the two of you would meet. That maybe we could see her together."

"Fitz…"

"I know…you're not interested in talking with someone."

Olivia paused for a moment, considering what Fitz was suggesting. "Did it help?"

"Did what help?"

"Talking with someone."

"I think it did. Virginia helped me work through some things, which allowed me to find other things that I needed to work on. Together we did the work and that work allowed me to be here, in this moment, with you."

"Do you still see her?"

"Sometimes, not as often as before. Now, I just call her when there's something I need to talk about, when I need help working through something."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"After our dinner, after I asked you to be my Chief of Staff."

"You talked about me?"

"Yes. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm more curious than uncomfortable."

"You could join me next time. Check her out. Maybe we could talk about what happened here this weekend. No pressure of course, I understand you have your own way of working through things." Fitz released a loud yawn.

"Are you tired? It's only two o'clock," she asked.

Fitz noticed that Olivia had deftly changed the subject. He knew bringing up therapy would be risky, but it was a chance he needed to take. If he and Olivia were going make it as a couple they had to find a way to do things differently, to find a way to heal their past individual and shared wounds and move forward together. Working with Virginia was one way to do that, but he was wise enough to know that this was a decision Olivia would have to make for herself.

"A little. I didn't sleep well last night, couldn't stop my mind from spinning, and now I'm a bit wrung out from this conversation."

Olivia unwrapped herself from Fitz's side and crawled to the head of the bed, propping herself up on the pillows. "Come here," she said, opening her arms for Fitz to join her. Fitz crawled to the top of the bed, laying his head on her chest and draping his arms and leg across her body. "Close your eyes," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. When she felt Fitz relax in her arms and she began to hum lightly, absentmindedly reflecting on the end of their conversation. It wasn't long before they were both sound asleep, finding a temporary respite from the emotional upheaval of the weekend.

 **A/N:** **I'm baaaaaack. Are any of you still interested in this story?** **Sorry it took me so long to update this story. This was such a heavy chapter and I struggled with where I wanted it to go and I couldn't find the path forward. Then, as some of you know, I got distracted by my new story Weekend Fiancée. I'm glad I came back to this story. I'm not finished with this version of Fitz and Olivia yet. I believe they can be a happy and healthy couple and I look forward to going on this journey with them. As I always, I welcome your feedback on what you liked and what you didn't like.**


End file.
